WALTER,  WELLMAN 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA       | 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF. CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


WALTER  WELI,MAN. 


THE  AERIAL  AGE 

A  Thousand  Miles  by  Airship 
Over  the  Atlantic  Ocean 


Airship  voyages  over  the  Polar  Sea 


THE  PAST,  THE  PRESENT  AND  THE 
FUTURE    OF    AERIAL    NAVIGATION 


BY 

WALTER   WELLMAN 

(JOURNALIST,  EXPLORER.  AERONAUT) 


ILLUSTRATED 


1911 

A.   R.   KELLER  &  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT  1911 
A.   R.   KELLER 


A 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  EARTH  EXPLORATION  AND  AIR  NAVIGATION  ...     13 

II     SHIPWRECKED   IK    SPITZBERGEN 21 

III  STRUGGLING  AGAINST  THE  IMPOSSIBLE      ....     29 

IV  PLANNING  TO  USE  A  BALLOON 35 

V     FRANZ  JOSEF  LAND 40 

VI     THROUGH  THE  ARCTIC  WINTER 49 

VII  WONDERFUL  CLIMATE  OF  THE  ARCTICS     .      .      .      .     57 

VIII     ROYAL  SPORT  WITH   POLAR  BEARS 65 

IX     THE    DASH    FOR   THE    POLE .71 

X  AN  EXTRAORDINARY  TRAGEDY  .......     76 

XI  FIGHTING  TO  THE   NORTHWARD     ......     84 

XII    OUR  GOOD  FRIEND,  THE  DOG .     90 

XIII  THE  JOYS  OF  POLAR  SLEDGING 96 

XIV  CAUGHT  IN  AN  ICE-QUAKE 102 

XV     THE  BITTER  RETREAT 112 

XVI     BY  AIRSHIP  TO  THE  POLE 119 

XVII  PREPARING  FOR  THE  AIRSHIP  POLAR  EXPEDITION  .   126 

XVIII     BUILDING  THE   POLAR   AIRSHIP 139 

XIX  "  A  SCIENTIFIC  VILLAGE  IN  THE  ARCTICS  "   .     .       146 

XX  THE  PLAN  OF  THE  VOYAGE     .     .     .     ...     .157 

XXI  THE  CAMPAIGN  OF  1907     .      .      .      ...      .      .168 

XXII  FIRST  AIRSHIP  VOYAGE  OVER  THE  POLAR  SEA  .      .       174 

XXIII  SECOND  AIRSHIP  VOYAGE  IN  THE  ARCTICS    .      .      .   182 

XXIV  AN  AIRSHIP  STRUGGLE  OVER  THE  ICE-PACK  .      .      .   189 
XXV     COOK   AND   PEARY 197 

XXVI  COMMERCIALISM,  EXPLORATION  AND  ADVERTISING    .  203 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXVII     ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC  BY  AIRSHIP 215 

XXVIII     THE  SECRETS  OF  A  GREAT  AIRSHIP 222 

XXIX     THE  ENGINES  OF  THE  SHIP 229 

XXX     CURIOUS  FACTS  ABOUT  AIRSHIPS 237 

XXXI     THE  FAMOUS  EQUILIBRATOR 245 

XXXII  THE  WEIGHT  PROBLEM  IK  AERONAUTICS     .      .      .  255 

XXXIII  PROBLEMS  OF  AERIAL   NAVIGATION 262 

XXXIV  THE  WEIGHTS  OF  A  BIG  AIRSHIP 270 

XXXV  THE  START  — OUT  OF  THE  BALLOON  HOUSE     .      .   276 

XXXVI     OUT  OVER  THE  ATLANTIC 285 

XXXVII  PERILS  OF  FIRE,  SHIPWRECK  AND  COLLISION  .      .      .293 

XXXVIII     A  DAY  OF  STORM  AND  DANGER 301 

XXXIX     WHISPERINGS  IN  THE  AIR 309 

XL     THE   PROBLEM  OF  ESCAPE 318 

XLI     AIRSHIP  AND  STEAMSHIP  MEET 324 

XLII     THE  FATES  WERE  KIND  THIS  DAY 329 

XLI  1 1     NAVIGATOR  SIMON'S  LOG 335 

XLIV  SIMON'S  Loo  — THE  SECOND  DAY  OUT   .      .      .      .348 

XLV  THE  NAVIGATOR'S  LOG  —  THIRD  DAY  OUT     .      .      .353 

XLVI  NAVIGATOR   SIMON'S   LOG  —  THE   RESCUE      .      .      .361 

XLVII  THE    MARCONI   WIRELESS    APPARATUS      .     .     .      .368 

XLVIII     JACK  IRWIN'S  WIRELESS  LOG 372 

XLIX  THE  FUTURE  OF  AERIAL  NAVIGATION     ....  384 

L  POSSIBILITIES  OF  THE  MOTOR-BALLOON     ....  389 

LI     OBSTACLES  TO  COMMERCIAL  USE 396 

LI  I    LIMITATIONS  OF  AERIAL  CRAFT 401 

LIII  THE   FUTURE   TRANSATLANTIC  AIRSHIP    ....  410 

LIV  POWER  AND  EQUIPMENT  OF  THE  GREAT  AIRSHIP   .  416 

LV  Two  NIGHTS  FROM  NEW  YORK  TO  LONDON     .     .  423 

LVI  THE  FUTURE  OF  MECHANICAL  FLIGHT   ....  432 

LVII  AERIAL  NAVIGATION  IN  TIME  OF  WAR    .     .     .     .441 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Walter  Wellraan .  Frontispiece 

Walter  Wellman 8 

The  Wellman  Expedition  Steamship  Frith jof 16 

"  Supper  is  ready,  the  only  glorious  hour  of  the  day  " .  .  .  24 

"  The  dogs  .  .  .  leaped  to  the  rescue " 33 

"I  suddenly  dropped  straight  down  in  the  snow"  ....  40 

"The  cub  bravely  attempted  to  defend  himself"  ....  48 

Greeting  Felix  Riesenberg  in  the  Spring 56 

Mr.  Wellman  looking  down  on  Paris  in  His  First  Balloon 

Ascent 65 

H.  R.  H.  the  Prince  of  Monaco  and  Mr.  Wellman  ....  80 
Tourist  Ship  at  Camp  Wellman  —  Mrs.  Vaniman  and  the 

Misses  Wellman  arrive 88 

Full  length  view  of  the  steel  car  of  the  America  — 1907  — 

(115  ft.  long) 97 

The  steel  car  of  the  Airship  America  — 1907 104 

Section  of  the  steel  car  of  the  America  — 1907  .  .  .  .  .  112 
Airship  America  above  the  top  of  a  mountain,  Spitzbergen  — 

1907 129 

The  America  starting  on  her  voyage  — 1907 136 

The  steel  car  of  the  Airship  — 1909  —  at  workshop  in  suburbs 

of  Paris *  » 144 

The  Hydrogen  Gas  Apparatus  at  Camp  Wellman,  Spitzbergen 

Gas  Engineer  Hervien 152 

Workmen  adjusting  one  of  the  motors  of  the  airship  — 1909  .  161 
Some  of  the  Sledge  dogs  carried  on  the  Airship  in  1909  .  .  168 
Part  of  car  and  one  of  the  motors  —  1909  .  .  .  176 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

View  of  Camp  Wellman,  Spitzbergen  —  Balloon  House  in 
Foreground  —  Machine  shop,  Gas  Apparatus,  Pumping 
House  at  left  —  At  right,  site  of  Andree's  Balloon  House 
—  Across  the  bay  through  dark  stretch  of  sand  —  Site  of 
old  Smeerenberg,  the  whale  city  of  the  Dutch  ....  184 

Mr.  Wellman,  Mr.  Vaniman  and  Capt.  English  taking  as- 
tronomical observations  —  1909 193 

The  America  ready  to  leave  the  Balloon  House  at  Spitzbergen 

-1909 200 

The  America  in  Flight  over  the  Ice  Pack— 1909     .      .      .      .208 

The  America  Fighting  her  way  south  over  the  Ice  Pack.  Pho- 
tographed from  the  Steamer  Farm 216 

Airship  America  Being  Towed  by  the  Steamer  Farm  — 1909  .   225 

Norwegian  Government  Steamer  Farm  nearing  the  Airship  — 

1909 232 

Under  view  of  the  America — 1909  —  Behind  long  windows  of 

aft  are  the  Sledge  dogs 240 

The  America  after  the  accident  — 1909  —  The  Retarder  im- 
provised as  an  equilibrator  Short  body  hanging  from  Air- 
ship—All that  is  left  of  the  equilibrator 248 

Boat's  crew  from  the  Farm  attaching  the  tow  line  to  the 

America 257 

Another  view  of  the  disabled  Airship  —  Boats  alongside  to 

take  off  the  crew  and  valuables  — 1909 264 

The  Norwegian  Steamer  Farm  rescuing  the  Airship  crew  — 

1909 272 

Taking  instruments,  dogs  and  crew  from  the  partly  wrecked 

Airship  —  1909 280 

Melvin  Vaniman  at  Spitzbergen 289 

French  Mechanics  working  on  the  Airship  at  Paris  — 1910   .  296 

Assembling  the  parts  of  the  Gas  Apparatus,  in  the  factory 

at  Paris  — 1910 304 

The  great  hapgar  of  the  Airship  America  at  the  Inlet  —  At- 
lantic City,  N.  J 312 

From  left  to  right,  Vaniman,  Simon,  Wellman,  Aubert  and 

Loud  .  .  321 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Jack  Irwin,  wireless  operator  Airship  America 328 

The  eight  cylinder  E  N  V  Motor  in  Place  in  the  steel  Can  — 

1910 .  .  336 

Engine  room  of  the  Airship  America  looking  aft  ....  344 
Bow  view  of  the  Airship  America  showing  U.  S.  Shield  .  .  353 
Clever  Photographic  Combination  —  the  old  America  shown 

Flying  over  Atlantic  City 368 

The  Airship  as  seen  at  some  distance  from  the  Trent  .  .  .  385 
Photograph  of  the  America  taken  from  the  Trent  ....  400 
Just  Before  the  launching  of  the  Lifeboat  —  Photograph  from 

the  Trent 417 

Crew  of  the  America  in  the  Lifeboat  after  leaving  the  Airship  432 


WALTER  WELLMAX. 

Copyright  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  N.  Y. 


TO  MY  READERS 

Will  you  walk  with  me  a  while  in  the  paths 
of  adventure?  For  that  is  what  this  book  is  to 
deal  with — adventures  in  Polar  Ice,  far  out  upon 
the  broad  sea,  and  high  up  in  the  air  which  cov- 
ers them  both.  By  adventure  I  mean  strange 
and  thrilling  experiences  which  come  to  one  who 
sets  out,  not  for  adventure,  not  for  hardships, 
not  for  narrow  escapes  from  death,  but  with  a 
desire  to  achieve  something  in  the  way  of  ex- 
ploration and  scientific  progress  for  the  good  of 
mankind  and  the  advancement  of  knowledge; 
and  who,  in  this  spirit  endeavoring,  experiences 
more  of  adventure,  danger  and  hardship,  and  ill 
fortune  followed  by  the  fair  that  leaves  life  in- 
tact after  hope  had  almost  gone,  than  he  had  ever 
dreamed  of — so  much,  perhaps  that  if  he  could 
have  foreseen  it  all  he  would  never  have  had  the 
courage  to  venture  forth  from  the  quiet  of  his 
home. 

Scientific  achievement  was  the  purpose  and 
moving  spirit,  adventure  and  danger  the  inci- 
dents which  the  fates  would  have,  of  all  the 
activities  with  which  this  volume  deals.  I  make 


THE  AERIAL  AGE 

no  apology  for  thus  frankly  characterizing  it: 
for  in  my  philosophy  even  adventure  for  mere 
adventure's  sake  (and  ours,  as  I  say,  is  much 
more)  is  always  worth  while.  In  this  plodding 
commercial  age,  this  day  of  humdrum  money 
grubbing  and  of  the  routine  though  admirable 
round  of  quite  duty  doing,  it  is  a  good  thing,  I 
think,  for  the  few  of  us  who  can  to  leave  the 
beaten  track,  fare  forth  into  strange  fields,  and 
strive  mightily  to  do  things  which  are  exceedingly 
difficult  and  dangerous  and  the  more  fascinating 
because  they  are  difficult  and  dangerous.  It  is 
a  good  thing  to  stir  the  blood  into  faster  coursing 
through  the  veins,  to  warm  the  heart  with  sym- 
pathy and  anxiety  for  one's  comrades,  to  dream 
a  few  waking  dreams,  to  live  a  few  romances 
in  real  life. 

My  comrades?  Yes,  I  like  to  speak  of  them. 
They  are  close  to  my  heart.  I  shall  tell  you 
much  about  them  in  these  pages.  It  has  been  my 
fortune  to  have  with  me,  in  polar  sledging  trips, 
in  long  Arctic  nights,  in  airship  voyages  over  the 
ice  fields  and  glaciers  of  the  far  north,  and  in  a 
thousand  mile  flight  over  the  stormy  waters  of 
the  Atlantic,  men  brave,  true,  loyal,  heroic.  They 
have  won  my  love  and  admiration:  and  I  want 
them  to  have  yours.  With  joy  I  shall  tell  you 
of  their  deeds  of  daring,  their  endurance,  their 
valor.  Without  them  I  should  have  done  little. 


TO  MY  READERS 

Always,  in  every  campaign,  they  did  far  more 
than  I.  And  yet,  no  mock  modesty,  no  strain- 
ing for  effect,  shall  preclude  my  speaking  of 
myself  whenever  and  wherever  I  am  a  proper 
part  of  the  story.  For  the  story  is  the  thing, 
after  all. 

This  history  of  scientific  adventure  will,  I 
trust,  do  much  better  than  thrill  or  amuse  the 
reader.  It  is  my  hope  to  put  in  these  pages  so 
much  of  scientific  fact  and  data  concerning  the 
polar  regions,  the  ocean  of  the  atmosphere,  navi- 
gation of  the  air  and  all  the  physics,  chemistry, 
arts,  sciences,  mechanics,  involved  in  it — the 
range  is  almost  as  wide  as  the  horizon  of  human 
achievement — and  to  write  it  all  in  such  clear, 
simple,  plain,  unpretentious,  popular  way  that 
in  the  end  my  reader  shall  be  forced  to  confess 
he  has  not  only  been  entertained  but  instructed; 
and  perchance  that  he  has  acquired  the  very  in- 
formation and  insight  as  to  the  mysteries  of 
aerial  navigation  which  he  had  long  sought  and 
never  before  found. 

All  my  life  I  have  been  writing  for  the  peo- 
ple. To  please,  to  inform,  to  help  educate,  to 
win  the  approval  of  the  people,  is,  I  admit,  the 
very  breath  of  life  in  my  nostrils.  Always  have 
I  looked  upon  the  masses  of  the  people  as  my 
masters,  upon  myself  as  their  servant.  I  lay  no 
claim  to  great  scientific  knowledge,  nor  to  honors 


THE  AERIAL  AGE 

or  titles.  As  a  plain,  simple  man,  coming  from 
the  farm  through  the  country  school  house  and 
the  village  printing  office  to  metropolitan  jour- 
nalism, association  with  presidents  and  the  high- 
est in  the  land,  studying  and  writing  of  life  and 
questions  and  policies  and  great  events,  and 
finally  as  a  man  of  action  trying  to  do  a  few 
things  in  the  world  on  my  own  account,  I  have 
never  for  a  moment  lost  or  desired  to  lose  any 
of  this  feeling  that  far  beyond  my  humble 
deserts  there  exists  a  strong  bond  of  sympathy 
and  mutual  understanding  between  the  people— 
the  real  people  who  make  up  the  bulk  of  the 
pyramid  of  society,  not  the  few  who  imagine 
themselves  as  composing  its  apex — and  myself. 
If  this  book,  which  in  a  sense  is  the  story  of 
my  life  of  activity  apart  from  my  quarter  cen- 
tury of  work  in  journalism,  shall  serve  to  pre- 
serve and  perpetuate  that  happy  relationship 
between  the  people  and  the  penman,  no  other 
reward  or  compensation  do  I  crave. 


THE  AERIAL  AGE 

CHAPTER  I 

EARTH   EXPLORATION    AND   AIR   NAVIGATION 

For  a  century  or  more  man  has  had  two  great 
aspirations  in  the  field  of  progress — one  to  con- 
quer the  unknown  parts  of  the  earth,  the  other 
to  conquer  the  air.  He  had  already  possessed 
himself  of  most  of  the  surface  of  the  globe,  and 
now  he  wished  to  take  possession  of  the  re- 
mainder. He  had  learned  to  travel  over  the 
land,  and  to  sail  the  sea.  Now  he  wished  to  nav- 
igate the  great  atmospheric  ocean  which  every- 
where surrounds  and  covers  the  land. 

It  happened  that  my  activities  in  the  field  of 
earth  exploration  brought  me  into  the  field  of 
air  navigation.  At  first,  aerial  navigation  was 
with  me  only  a  means  to  an  end,  and  the  end 
in  view  was  attainment  of  the  North  Pole — • 
to  push  farther  and  farther  forward  the  frontiers 
of  man's  knowledge  of  the  earth. 

My  plan  and  effort  were  to  take  the  progress 
that  had  been  made  in  the  aeronautic  art  and  so 

13 


14  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

adapt,  develop  and  specialize  it,  that  it  could 
be  made  to  achieve  something  in  the  world's 
work  apart  from  mere  experimentation  in  aero- 
nautics alone.  Up  to  this  time  all  experiments 
in  aerial  navigation  were  for  no  other  purpose 
than  to  demonstrate  what  could  be  done  in  the 
air.  The  attempt  which  was  made  by  my  asso- 
ciates and  myself  to  travel  through  the  air  to  the 
North  Pole,  instead  of  over  the  land,  was  the  first 
effort  to  put  aerial  navigation  to  actual  use  in 
the  performance  of  valuable  scientific  work. 
Attainment  of  the  Pole  and  exploration  of  the 
vast  unknown  region  lying  about  it  had  come 
to  be  looked  upon  as  a  part  of  the  task  which 
the  progressive  and  enterprising  nations  had 
taken  upon  their  shoulders. 

To  reach  the  North  Pole  had  been  the  ambi- 
tion of  man  through  the  centuries.  It  was  the 
last  really  great  thing  to  be  done  in  working  out 
the  destiny  of  man  to  explore,  conquer,  and  know 
all  of  the  earth  that  was  given  to  him  to  live  upon 
and  to  rule. 

The  quest  of  the  North  Pole— and  the  South 
Pole — is  a  law  of  gravity  within  man.  It  is  the 
all-compelling  instinct  to  know  all  of  the  un- 
known; it  matters  not  where — in  the  depths  of 
the  sea,  high  in  the  air,  in  the  mystery  of  the 
origin  of  life,  in  the  greater  puzzle  of  the  here- 
after, in  the  whisperings  from  the  occult  world, 


FROM  EARTH  TO  AIR  15 

in  the  geologic  records  of  ages  past,  in  the  mi- 
nutiae of  chemistry,  in  the  vastness  of  the  solar 
and  stellar  systems,  in  the  infinitude  of  space- 
everywhere  and  as  to  everything,  from  the 
planets  to  atoms,  man  wants  to  know,  feels  that 
he  must  know. 

The  North  Pole  stood  as  the  center  and 
symbol  of  a  vast,  unknown  region.  To  make 
this  unknown  known  was  one  of  the  highest  am- 
bitions of  man.  The  utilitarian  value  of  that 
knowledge  is  perhaps  nothing.  Its  scientific 
value  is  a  matter  of  opinion  and  discussion.  But 
the  true  scientific  spirit  is:  "Wherever  in  all  the 
realm  of  physics  there  exists  an  unknown,  a 
missing  link,  a  dark  spot,  go  find  what  is  there, 
and  discuss  its  value  afterward  in  the  light  of 
the  knowledge  gained." 

It  had  seemed  to  me  that  if  we  could  make 
actual  use  of  aerial  navigation  in  the  work  of 
geographical  research  and  the  extension  of 
knowledge  simply  for  the  sake  of  knowledge, 
that  would  be  an  achievement  doubly  worth 
while  because  it  would  combine  and  realize  two 
of  the  most  noble  aspirations  of  mankind.  And 
my  faith  that  this  achievement  was  practicable  is 
stronger  now  than  it  ever  was  before. 

The  task  was  not  an  easy  one.  I  never 
thought  it  was.  Attainment  of  the  North  Pole 
by  any  method  is  extremely  difficult.  The  best 


16  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

proof  of  this  is  that  the  brave  and  resourceful 
men  of  many  nations  tried  it  for  two  centuries, 
\vithout  success.  Recently  it  seemed  to  many  of 
us  the  time  had  come  to  adopt  new  methods,  to 
make  an  effort  to  substitute  modern  science  for 
brute  force,  the  motor-driven  balloon  for  the 
muscles  of  men  and  beasts  stumbling  along  like 
savages  in  their  heroic  struggle  to  accomplish  the 
almost  impossible.  All  such  effort  is  worthy; 
but  not  the  least  worthy,  I  think,  is  the  one  which 
tries  to  take  a  step  forward  from  barbarism  and 
make  one  science  serve  another. 

Always  keenly  interested  in  all  geographic  ex- 
ploration, and  Arctic  work  in  particular,  about 
seventeen  years  ago  I  read  again  the  story  of  a 
voyage  toward  the  North  Pole  which  had  been 
made  by  the  celebrated  English  traveler,  Cap- 
tain Parry,  in  1827.  He  had  reached  North 
Spitzbergen  with  his  sailing  ships.  Thence,  in 
the  summer  season,  with  heavy  ship's  boats 
weighing  a  ton  or  more  each,  only  ordinary 
sailors,  and  no  special  equipment,  he  had  set  out 
to  sledge  and  pull  the  clumsy  boats  over  the 
rough  sea  ice  toward  the  Pole.  Despite  the 
handicap  of  heavy  weights  under  which  he  had 
struggled,  fair  progress  was  made.  Indeed, 
Captain  Parry  reached  latitude  82:45  north, 
which  stood  as  the  record  of  man's  northerly  ad- 
vance till  Lock  wood  and  Brainard  of  the  Greely 


n 


FROM  EARTH  TO  AIR  17 

expedition  beat  it  about  thirty  miles  in  1884,  in 
North  Greenland. 

Believing  that  if  Parry  could  do  as  well  as 
this  in  the  summer  season,  with  such  heavy  boats, 
much  more  might  be  done  with  lighter  craft  and 
a  more  modern  equipment,  I  visited  Norway  in 
1893  to  investigate  conditions  and  possibly  to 
prf  ^are  for  an  expedition  of  my  own.  Consult- 
ing many  Norwegian  skippers  who  had  sailed  in 
Spitzbergen  waters,  and  gaining  encouragement 
from  them,  I  returned  to  America,  secured  the 
necessary  capital,  organized  an  expedition,  char- 
tered an  old  ice-steamer  in  Norway — she  was 
named  the  Ragnvald  Jarl — and  built  three  boats 
of  aluminum  for  use  on  the  trip,  with  special 
sledges  and  other  equipment  designed  to  facili- 
tate travel  over  the  polar  pack  in  the  summer  of 
the  year. 

In  April,  1894,  with  three  American  compan- 
ions, Charles  R.  Dodge,  O.  B.  French,  from  the 
Coast  and  Geodetic  Survey,  and  Dr.  Mohun,  we 
were  at  Aalesund,  Norway,  the  famous  fishing 
port  of  the  west  coast,  getting  our  ship  ready 
for  her  voyage.  The  remainder  of  our  crew  was 
made  up  of  Norwegian  scientific  men,  athletes, 
and  sailors  experienced  in  Arctic  ice.  April 
30th  we  sailed  from  Aalesund,  and  four  days 
later  from  Tromso.  Though  warned  not  to  at- 
tempt to  reach  Spitzbergen  so  early  in  the  year, 


18  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

we  immediately  steamed  away  from  the  Nor- 
wegian coast  and  set  our  prow  to  the  northward. 
We  were  favored  by  an  unusually  open  sea. 
Ordinarily,  as  I  have  since  learned  in  many  voy- 
ages to  and  fro,  one  cannot  be  sure  of  getting 
through  to  North  Spitzbergen  before  the  middle 
or  latter  part  of  June.  This  year  we  were  able 
to  reach  and  enter  the  Danish  Strait,  near  the 
extreme  northwestern  part  of  Spitzbergen,  May 
10th,  one  of  the  earliest  passages  on  record. 

Spitzbergen  is  an  uninhabited  group  of  is- 
lands, some  of  them  quite  large,  lying  between 
the  76th  and  81st  parallels  of  north  latitude. 
It  thus  extends  about  350  statute  miles  north  and 
south,  and  it  has  a  breadth  of  about  the  same  ex- 
tent. It  is  true  Arctic  country.  There  is  no 
foliage,  save  stunted  brush  in  the  southern  part. 
The  mountains  are  covered  with  eternal  ice,  and 
the  valleys  are  filled  with  glaciers.  Some  grass 
grows  in  the  sheltered  parts  during  the  short 
Arctic  summer,  and  flowering  poppies  and 
mosses  are  seen  here  and  there.  Upon  the 
mosses  many  herds  of  reindeer  live. 

Spitzbergen  was  two  centuries  ago  the  seat  of 
rich  right  whale  fisheries.  The  catch  of  seal  and 
walrus,  killing  polar  bear,  and  gathering  the 
down  of  the  eider  duck  from  their  myriad  nests  in 
the  rocky  cliff,  were  other  industries  carried  on  by 


FROM  EARTH  TO  AIR  19 

hunters,  penetrating  the  wilderness  of  snow  and 
ice  with  their  little  sloops  from  Norway,  Hol- 
land, Russia,  and  Scotland.  In  the  palmy  days 
of  the  whale  fisheries  the  Dutch  established  upon 
Smeerenburg  point,  a  long  strip  of  sand  on  the 
north  shore  of  the  Danish  Strait,  a  summer 
city.  And  what  a  city  it  must  have  been!  The 
only  industry  was  the  trying  out  of  whale  blubber 
—hence  the  name,  Smeerenburg.  Hundreds  of 
whaling  ships  made  this  port  their  rendezvous. 
Houses  were  built,  and  thatched  with  Dutch 
tiles.  Cafes,  dance  halls,  and  worse  places  to 
get  money  out  of  the  sailors  existed.  At  times 
the  population  rose  to  three  or  four  thousand 
souls,  all  men  save  a  hundred  or  two  women — of 
a  certain  class.  There  was  much  drinking  and 
fighting,  the  country  being  then  as  now  without 
laws  or  police  authority  or  supervision.  But  this 
reeking  city  of  blubber  existed  only  in  summer. 
In  the  autumn  all  went  home  to  Holland,  to 
come  out  and  try  their  luck  the  next  year.  A 
large  number  of  graves  scattered  about  on 
Smeerenburg  point  and  the  adjacent  lands,  in- 
dicate the  lawless  life  led  by  the  denizens  of  that 
strange  summer  town,  and  their  defiance  of  all 
laws  of  right  living.  At  that  time  it  was  deemed 
almost  sure  death  to  attempt  to  endure  a  winter 
in  Spitzbergen,  and  scurvy  did  claim  for  its 


20  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

victims  a  large  per  cent,  of  those  who,  caught  by 
shipwreck  or  storm,  were  unable  to  get  away  in 
the  autumn. 

Scurvy  is  no  longer  a  terror  of  the  Arctics. 
Men  winter  far  north  in  health  and  comfort  if 
they  only  provide  themselves  with  proper  food, 
bathe  occasionally  and  take  a  proper  amount  of 
exercise. 


CHAPTER  II 

SHIPWRECKED    IN    SPITZBERGEN 

We  paused  but  a  few  hours  in  the  Danish 
strait,  little  thinking  that  moment  that  it  was 
to  be  the  scene  of  so  much  of  our  future  activity, 
struggle  and  disappointment.  We  found  on 
shore  there  a  good  Arctic  house  which  had  been 
built  in  Norway,  taken  down  and  reerected  on 
the  shore  of  the  strait  by  an  English  sportsman 
named  Pike,  who  had  passed  a  winter  in  it  hunt- 
ing bear  and  foxes.  Before  proceeding  farther 
north  we  established  a  depot  of  supplies  in  this 
house,  to  fall  back  upon  in  case  of  disaster,  and 
left  a  man  in  charge  of  it. 

As  a  result  of  this  incident  I  a  little  later  got 
my  first  taste  of  newspaper  sensationalism  and 
misrepresentation.  The  man  we  left  in  charge 
of  our  depot  in  Pike's  house  was  a  Norwegian 
scientist,  who  had  asked  to  be  permitted  to  re- 
main there,  as  he  wished  to  carry  on  geological 
work  in  the  neighborhood.  We  offered  to  leave 
one  man  with  him  for  comrade,  but  he  objected 
to  that,  and  preferred  to  remain  alone.  There 
was  indeed  no  reason  why  he  should  not  remain 

21 


22  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

alone.  It  was  perfectly  safe.  He  had  a  good 
house,  tons  of  provisions,  a  gun  and  dog,  and 
was  not  likely  to  be  lonesome,  because  in  a  month 
or  so  the  sealing  sloops  from  his  own  country 
would  be  running  in  there  two  or  three  a  week, 
as  was  their  habit  in  the  middle  of  the  summer. 
And  yet  upon  returning  to  Europe  in  the 
autumn  I  was  amazed  to  discover  I  had  been 
charged  in  the  press  of  Europe  and  America  with 
having  cruelly  abandoned  a  poor  Norwegian 
scientist  to  starvation  at  my  depot!  This  as- 
tounding accusation  had  reached  the  press 
through  a  party  of  English  sportsmen  who  had 
visited  the  camp  in  midsummer,  found  the  Nor- 
wegian in  good  health  but  a  bit  lonely,  and  who 
on  their  return  had  reported  it  was  necessary 
for  them  to  give  him  supplies  in  order  to  save  his 
life.  Right  savagely  was  I  denounced  for  my 
wickedness  by  the  good  journalists  of  many  coun- 
tries. The  facts  were,  of  course,  that  the  poor 
abandoned  man  had  a  house  full  of  the  best  food 
money  could  buy — enough  to  have  kept  a  score 
of  men  a  whole  year — and  the  only  supplies  his 
English  visitors  had  given  him  to  save  him  from 
starvation  was  a  case  of  Scotch  whiskey,  not  a 
drop  of  which  was  left  by  the  time  we  were  able 
to  get  back  to  the  depot. 

Still  favored  by  ice-free  seas,  but  threatened 
with  shipwreck  by  a  heavy  storm,  we  steamed 


CRUSHED  BY  THE  ICE  23 

northeastward  along  the  north  coast  of  Spits- 
bergen, and  soon  found  ourselves  at  the  Seven 
Islands,  which  are  the  most  northerly  of  the 
Archipelago,  just  under  the  eighty-first  parallel 
of  latitude.  But  a  few  miles  to  the  north  lay  the 
polar  ice-pack  which  no  ship  can  penetrate  and 
navigate,  and  so  we  prepared  to  carry  out  the 
original  plan  of  the  expedition,  which  was  to 
make  headway  over  the  pack  toward  the  north 
with  sledges  and  our  light  aluminum  boats. 

We  did  indeed  set  out,  and  at  first  made  fairly 
good  progress  along  the  land  ice,  looking  for  a 
place  where  the  pack  was  not  so  rough  and  so 
much  broken  up  for  launching  our  little  caravan 
upon  the  rugged  frozen  surface  of  the  polar  sea. 
But  in  a  few  days  two  things  happened  which 
seriously  interfered  with  the  success  of  the  trip. 
A  storm  came  out  of  the  northwest,  drove  the 
pack-ice  down  upon  the  land  with  terrific  force, 
heaping  it  mountain  high,  and,  worse  still,  catch- 
ing our  steamship  in  a  vice  and  wrecking  it. 
Captain  Bottolfsen,  an  experienced  Arctic  navi- 
gator, was  responsible  for  the  safety  of  the  ship. 
At  Walden  Island,  near  where  the  great  Nelson, 
then  a  midshipman,  had  killed  a  bear  while  with 
an  English  exploring  ship  years  before,  Bottolf- 
sen had  anchored  the  Ragnvald  Jarl  behind  a 
projecting  tongue  of  heavy  ice,  where  it  seemed 
she  would  be  safe.  But  after  we  left  the  ship, 


24  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

and  when  the  storm  came  down  from  the  north- 
west, bringing  the  great  ocean  pack  with  it,  that 
tongue  had  given  way,  the  ship  was  caught  in 
the  jaw,  great  masses  of  ice  went  right  through 
her  hull  as  you  would  stick  the  tines  of  a  fork 
through  an  egg-shell,  and  the  Ragnvald  Jarl  was 
no  more. 

Messengers  were  sent  out  and  overtook  us 
some  miles  to  the  northeast.  I  hastened  back 
to  the  ship,  and  found  her  a  total  wreck.  She 
was  held  up  only  by  the  ice  that  had  pierced  her ; 
when  this  was  withdrawn  she  was  sure  to  sink 
to  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  I  went  aboard  her, 
and  with  great  difficulty  made  my  way  to  what 
had  been  my  cabin,  but  which  was  now  a  mass  of 
wreckage,  and  where  my  trunk  was  swimming 
about  in  the  water.  Captain  Bottolfsen  and 
some  of  the  sailors  helped  me  rescue  the  trunk, 
all  the  time  protesting  that  the  ship  was  likely 
to  go  to  the  bottom  at  any  moment.  In  that 
trunk  I  had  my  evening  clothes,  probably  the 
only  case  on  record  of  a  dress  suit  being  wrecked 
in  the  ice  of  the  far  north.  It  was  here  be- 
cause I  had  it  with  me  in  England  and  Norway ; 
had  taken  my  trunk  upon  the  steamer  because 
I  wanted  the  papers  and  other  clothing  it  con- 
tained; and  though  I  had  no  possible  use  for 
evening  clothes  in  the  far  north  had  permitted 


"  SUPPER   IS   READY,    THE    ONLY    GLORIOUS    HOUR    OF   THE    DAY." 


CRUSHED  BY  THE  ICE  25 

it  to  remain  where  it  was  as  the  easiest  solution 
of  the  problem  of  what  to  do  with  it. 

Upon  shore  Capt.  Bottolfsen  and  his  men  had 
erected  a  house,  half  of  timbers  from  the  wreck, 
half  of  sailcloth,  had  installed  therein  the  ship's 
galley,  and  were  not  so  very  uncomfortable. 
They  had  saved  some  of  the  stores,  and  were  in 
no  immediate  danger  of  famine.  Having  as- 
sured myself  they  were  safe,  and  after  making 
an  arrangement  with  Capt.  Bottolfsen  to  take 
a  small  boat  and  proceed  with  a  picked  party  to 
the  south  in  search  of  a  ship,  I  returned  to  my 
sledging  expedition,  running  on  Norwegian  ski 
or  snowshoes. 

We  decided  to  go  on  with  our  trip,  though 
forced  in  prudence  to  modify  the  plan  in  im- 
portant particulars,  because  our  ship  had  been 
destroyed  behind  us,  and  there  was  no  certainty 
of  finding  another.  The  same  storm  which  had 
wrecked  our  vessel  had  piled  the  ice  mountain 
high  against  all  the  islands  in  that  part  of  Spitz- 
bergen,  making  it  impossible  to  get  out  upon  the 
normal  pack,  where  travel,  though  difficult,  is 
still  practicable.  Advised  by  my  Norwegian 
comrades  that  we  might  find  better  ice  farther 
east,  we  traveled  in  that  direction.  After  sev- 
eral days  of  arduous  work,  pulling  our  heavy 
sledges  and  boats,  we  found  it  necessary  to 


26  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

abandon  our  sledge  dogs  and  take  to  open  water 
in  our  aluminum  boats.  These  dogs  were  not 
a  success.  I  had  resolved  to  experiment  with 
the  draft  dogs  one  sees  doing  such  prodigies  of 
labor  in  the  towns  of  Belgium  and  Holland,  and 
at  Liege  in  the  former  country  had  bought  two 
score  of  the  beasts  and  shipped  them  to  Norway. 
They  endured  quite  well  the  voyage  to  the  Arctic 
regions,  and  were  strong  enough  to  pull  the  loads. 
But  they  could  not  get  accustomed  to  their 
strange  surroundings.  They  were  plainly  home- 
sick, just  as  I  have  seen  many  men  when  taken 
from  their  customary  life  and  put  into  the  some- 
what lonely  and  trying  work  of  the  far  north. 
Worst  of  all,  these  dogs  suffered  frightfully  in 
their  feet.  The  snow  and  ice  worked  in  between 
their  toes,  drew  the  blood,  and  our  trail  for  days 
was  marked  with  streaks  of  red  which  hurt  me 
perhaps  even  more  than  it  hurt  the  poor  beasts 
who  left  it  there  as  they  ambled  along  unwill- 
ingly with  their  loads  behind  them.  It  was  a 
relief  when  open  water  and  the  need  of  taking 
to  boats  made  it  necessary  to  abandon  them. 
Instead  of  leaving  them  to  starve  we  mercifully 
shot  every  one  of  them. 

This  was  toward  the  end  of  May.  The  tem- 
perature was  about  ten  to  twelve  degrees  below 
freezing.  But  for  some  of  us  it  is  not  easy  to 
give  up  old  habits.  I  found  it  so  with  the  habit 


CRUSHED  BY  THE  ICE  2? 

of  bathing.  Just  before  we  came  to  the  belt 
of  open  water  requiring  us  to  take  to  the  boats 
there  chanced  to  be  near  us,  one  day  when  we 
stopped  for  luncheon,  sitting  upon  our  sledges, 
a  most  inviting  natural  bath  tub.  The  top  layer 
of  ice,  about  six  feet  in  thickness,  had  parted  and 
left  an  opening  down  to  the  older  ice  about  eight 
feet  in  width  and  perhaps  twenty  feet  in  length. 
This  crystal  bath-tub  had  been  partly  filled  with 
snow  water,  melted  by  the  heat  of  the  sun — for 
freezing  in  the  shade  and  thawing  in  the  sun  is 
a  common  occurrence  in  the  summer  and  late 
spring  of  the  Arctic  regions.  This  pool  of  pur- 
est water,  glistening  in  the  sunlight,  proved  too 
fascinating  to  be  resisted ;  and  amid  the  astonish- 
ment of  my  Norwegians  I  stripped  to  the  skin 
and  had  a  five-minute  dip  in  the  limpid  pool. 
It  was  cold,  and  that's  the  truth;  but  the  most 
disagreeable  thing  about  it  was  not  the  coldness 
of  the  water,  but  the  snow  squeezing  up  between 
my  toes  as  I  walked  from  the  sledge  to  my  icy 
tub  and  back  again.  Later  on  a  number  of  us 
bathed  in  the  Arctic  Sea,  diving  off  the  ice, 
greatly  to  the  astonishment  of  some  seals  that 
were  swimming  about  hard  by. 

We  went  on  as  far  as  the  Platen  Island,  lying 
off  the  coast  of  the  Northeast  Land  of  Spitz- 
bergen.  There  we  made  a  comfortable  camp, 
finding  plenty  of  driftwood  that  had  come  all 


28  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  way  from  the  rivers  of  Siberia  with  the  cur- 
rents of  the  Arctic  Sea.  A  herd  of  reindeer 
walked  into  camp  one  day,  and  obligingly  stood 
stock  still  till  we  had  killed  as  many  as  we 
thought  we  should  need.  Poor  innocent  beasts. 
That  part  of  the  Arctic  region  is  seldom  visited 
by  hunters  because  of  the  difficulty  and  danger 
of  ice-navigation  there;  and  these  reindeer  ap- 
parently had  never  seen  men  before  and  knew  no 
fear. 

There  is  a  tradition  that  all  the  reindeer  in 
Spitzbergen  have  descended  from  a  herd  of  forty 
which  Baron  Nordenshiold  of  Sweden  took  to 
the  north  coast  from  Lapland  about  fifty  years 
ago,  thinking  to  use  them  instead  of  dogs  to 
draw  sledges  over  the  pack-ice  toward  the  Pole. 
One  stormy  night  all  his  deer  escaped,  and  thus 
his  polar  expedition  was  ruined.  But  I  think 
the  evidence  is  clear  that  reindeer  had  always 
existed  in  Spitzbergen.  Whenever  I  have  been 
along  the  coast  I  have  found  reindeer  horns, 
some  of  them  apparently  hundreds  of  years  old. 
In  that  country  wood  and  bone  rot  very  slowly. 
The  skeleton  of  the  Dutchmen  we  saw  in  their 
exposed  graves  about  Smeerenburg  point  were 
so  well  preserved  as  to  indicate  but  a  few  years 
of  age,  though  they  had  lain  there  a  couple  of 
centuries. 


CHAPTER  III 

STRUGGLING   AGAINST   THE   IMPOSSIBLE 

From  the  Platen  Island  we  made  a  desperate 
effort  to  get  out  upon  the  polar  pack  and  start 
toward  the  Pole.  But  it  was  simply  impossible. 
The  storm  of  which  I  have  spoken  had  driven 
hundreds  of  millions  of  tons  of  ice  down  upon 
the  land — an  example  of  an  irresistible  force 
encountering'  an  immovable  body — and  the  re- 
sult was  mad  chaos.  Ice-blocks  as  large  as 
houses  piled  high  in  the  wildest  confusion.  Be- 
tween them  deep  pockets  filled  with  treacherous 
slush  and  brash  ice  upon  which  we  could  get  no 
firm  footing  and  through  which  the  wTater  could 
not  be  forced.  We  had  many  narrow  escapes 
whilst  working  in  this  mass  of  frozen  stuff  over 
the  deep  sea.  Many  times  we  pulled  one  an- 
other out  of  the  water.  After  these  cold  baths 
we  went  on  with  our  work  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened, not  taking  the  trouble  to  change  our 
soaked  clothing  for  dry.  It  is  nothing  when  you 
get  used  to  it. 

Defeated  in  the  main  purpose  of  our  expedi- 
tion, we  had  to  think  of  returning  to  that  part 

29 


30  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

of  Spitzbergen  where  we  could  hope  to  find  a 
ship.  So  we  started  back  for  Walden  Island. 
On  the  way  we  had  many  adventures.  The  ad- 
vancing summer  rotted  the  ice.  For  miles  and 
miles  we  could  make  headway  only  by  shoving 
the  aluminum  boats  through  the  slush-ice,  we 
half  walking,  half  swimming  alongside,  jump- 
ing in  the  boat  when  we  came  to  an  open  pool, 
out  again  and  leaping  from  ice  cake  to  cake  in 
the  broken-up  fields.  We  were  wet  to  the 
middle  from  morning  till  night.  We  did  not 
mind  it  so  much  when  the  sun  shone  and  the 
weather  was  fine.  But  it  was  pretty  dreary 
work  in  wind  and  rain,  and  worse  still  in  the 
thick  fogs,  so  dense  that  we  could  not  see  much 
more  than  a  boat's  length. 

It  was  particularly  awkward  to  camp  at  night 
—as  we  were  sometimes  forced  to  do — upon  ice 
so  rotten  that  we  could  not  step  a  couple  of  paces 
from  the  boats  without  danger  of  going  down 
into  the  salt  water  underneath.  Many  such 
duckings  we  all  had,  and  sometimes  it  was  not 
easy  to  pull  a  man  out  after  he  had  gone  down 
in  the  ice  to  his  middle. 

One  of  my  best  and  bravest  Norwegians,  Herr 
Alme,  a  fine  athlete,  broke  a  bone  in  his  foot 
one  day,  leaping  from  one  floe  of  ice  to  another. 
He  suffered  excruciating  pain.  That  night,  af- 
ter his  foot  had  been  dressed  by  Dr.  Mohun,  I 


AGAINST  THE  IMPOSSIBLE      31 

found  the  poor  fellow  lying  in  his  boat  crying 
bitterly.  When  I  asked  him  if  he  was  suffering 
so  much,  he  replied: 

"My  foot  is  easier,  but  the  doctor  says  I  can't 
walk  for  a  month.  That  means  I  can't  help  pull 
the  boat." 

"Don't  worry  about  that.  We'll  get  along 
all  right." 

"But — but  you  won't  leave  me  out  here  in  the 
ice,  will  you?" 

The  secret  was  out.  The  brave  boy  knew  we 
would  have  to  drag  him  in  the  boat,  making  our 
work  so  much  the  harder.  And  he  had  actually 
feared  we  would  abandon  him  to  perish  out  there 
in  the  wilderness  of  ice ! 

Several  polar  bear — ice-bear  the  Norwegians 
always  call  them — we  killed  on  the  way,  and  so 
did  not  lack  for  an  occasional  meal  of  fresh  meat. 
One  day  at  luncheon,  sitting  on  our  boat  and 
sledges,  we  saw  an  ice-bear  trying  to  catch  a  seal. 
The  seal  was  basking  in  the  sun,  by  the  side  of 
his  ice-hole;  if  he  was  sleeping,  it  was  with  one 
eye  open  for  his  mortal  foe,  the  big  white 
bear.  The  bear  was  approaching  most  stealth- 
ily. He  had  gone  around  to  the  leeward  so 
that  the  wind  should  not  carry  scent  of  him 
to  his  prey.  Hiding  first  behind  one  ice  hum- 
mock and  then  another,  he  peered  out  to  see 
if  the  seal  were  still  asleep,  and  then  slid  along 


32  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

his  belly  in  the  snow,  afraid  of  giving  the 
alarm  if  he  rose  to  his  full  stature.  Thus  he  ad- 
vanced perhaps  three  or  four  hundred  yards,  all 
the  time  showing  more  and  more  caution.  At 
length  he  resorted  to  tactics  which  showed  more 
than  instinct  and  must  be  put  down  as  animal 
reason.  Apparently  he  realized  that  as  he  slid 
himself  along  through  the  snow  he  was  well-nigh 
invisible  because  his  coat  was  as  white  as  the  sur- 
rounding. "But  my  black  nose!"  he  must  have 
thought.  "Will  not  the  seal  see  that,  and  take 
the  alarm?"  And  so  this  clever  bear  reached 
out  with  one  of  his  forepaws,  covered  his  black 
snout  with  his  white  foot,  and  shoved  himself 
along  with  three  legs. 

At  last  there  was  no  hummock  between  him 
and  his  intended  victim.  ,  With  a  mighty  leap 
Mr.  Bear  rushed  upon  the  seal.  Just  as  it  ap- 
peared to  us  the  hunter  had  his  dinner  safe  in 
his  clutches,  plump  into  the  ice-hole  rolled  the 
dark,  fat  seal.  No  one  ever  saw  a  more  angry 
bear.  He  stuck  his  head  down  into  the  hole,  so 
deep  that  it  seemed  he  could  never  get  out  again. 
When  he  realized  he  had  lost  his  dinner  his  rage 
knew  no  bounds.  He  roared  and  tore  up  the 
ice  and  snow  and  snorted  and  even  pulled  out 
tufts  of  his  own  hair.  After  a  time  he  cooled 
down.  And  soon  it  was  evident  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  that  if  he  couldn't  get  a  square  meal 


THE    DOGS      .       .       .       LEAPED    TO    THE    RESCUE.' 


AGAINST  THE  IMPOSSIBLE      33 

he  could  at  least  have  the  next  best  thing — a 
nice  bath.  And  so  he  wallowed  for  several 
minutes  in  one  of  these  natural  ice-pools  like  the 
one  I  had  taken  a  dip  in  some  weeks  earlier. 

Pretty  soon  he  came  round  where  he  got  our 
scent,  and  slowly  and  cautiously  approached  us. 
The  polar  bear  is  almost  blind  in  summer.  He 
depends  vastly  more  upon  smell  than  sight  in 
hunting  his  food,  which  consists  almost  entirely 
of  seal.  But  he  could  not  quite  make  us  out. 
He  had  never  scented  such  game  before.  So  he 
came  up  slowly,  pausing  every  few  rods  to  rise  on 
his  haunches  and  move  his  head  to  and  fro  in  the 
air,  sniffing  and  trying  to  solve  the  riddle.  At 
this  juncture  Paul  Bjoervig,  one  of  our  Nor- 
wegians— you  will  read  more  about  him  in  these 
pages — thought  to  play  a  joke  on  the  visitor. 
Getting  down  in  the  snow  in  front  of  our  sledges 
he  crawled  along  on  all  fours,  throwing  out  his 
arms  in  imitation  of  the  flippers  of  a  seal,  and 
perfectly  mimicking  a  seal's  short  grunts.  The 
bear  was  now  close  enough  to  see  this  bogus  seal. 
This  time  he  felt  sure  of  his  dinner!  With . a 
mad  rush  he  leaped  toward  Bjoervig,  who  was 
lying  there  in  the  snow  laughing.  As  the  bear 
rushed  his  prey  two  of  our  guns  cracked  and  the 
beast  turned  in  a  flash  and  made  off  at  a  speed 
of  about  forty  miles  per  hour.  I  had  told  the 
men  not  to  kill  him.  We  already  had  all  the 


34  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

bear  meat  we  needed;  and,  besides,  I  felt  a 
sincere  sympathy  and  admiration  for  this  beast 
who  had  had  the  wit  to  cover  his  black  snoot  with 
his  white  paw  while  stalking  the  seal. 

After  some  weeks  of  struggle  we  arrived  at 
Walden  Island,  and  found  the  sailors  there  all 
well  in  their  camp.  Capt.  Bottolfsen  had  gone 
south  in  one  of  our  aluminum  boats  to  find  a  ship 
and  summon  help.  After  waiting  some  time, 
and  seeing  no  signs  that  the  ice  was  likely  to 
leave  the  coast  and  permit  a  vessel  to  come  to  us, 
we  started  south  with  two  aluminum  boats  and 
the  heavy  lifeboats  which  had  been  saved  from 
the  wreck  of  the  Ragnvald  Jarl.  Storms  came 
on,  the  ice  was  drifting  violently  to  and  fro,  and 
we  had  many  close  calls  from  being  crushed  and 
wrecked.  Once  in  the  nick  of  time  we  managed 
to  pull  the  boats  upon  an  iceberg,  while  masses 
of  ice  were  crashing  together  all  about  us.  There 
we  were  held  prisoners  till  the  wind  changed  and 
permitted  us  to  find  a  little  open  water  in  which 
the  boats  could  be  launched  again.  Finally  we 
reached  the  edge  of  the  drift-ice,  and  there  found 
a  sealing  sloop  which  had  come  as  far  north  as 
she  could  get  looking  for  us.  In  her  we  re- 
turned to  our  depot  at  Virgo  Bay,  and  thence  to 
]\Torway. 


CHAPTER  IV 

PLANNING   TO    USE   A   BALLOON 

It  was  whilst  pushing  and  pulling  the  heavy 
sledges  and  boats  over  the  rough  ice  on  this  ex- 
pedition that  the  idea  first  came  to  me  of  using 
an  aerial  craft  in  Arctic  exploration.  Often  I 
looked  up  into  the  air  and  wished  we  had  some 
means  of  traveling  that  royal  road,  where  there 
were  no  ice  hummocks,  no  leads  of  open  water, 
no  obstacles  to  rapid  progress.  Why  could  not 
a  balloon  be  used  to  take  three  or  four  men, 
sledges,  dogs,  provisions,  all  the  necessary  equip- 
ment, from  the  coast  of  Spitzbergen  to  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Pole,  by  starting  in  a  south 
wind  ?  And  if  the  aerial  craft  were  to  carry  such 
a  party  somewhere  near  the  Pole,  in  a  day  or  two, 
could  they  not  descend  upon  the  ice,  and  with 
sledges  and  dogs  complete  the  work  of  explora- 
tion, and  by  the  same  means  find  their  way  back 
over  the  pack  to  their  headquarters  or  to  some 
other  land  where  they  could  get  game  and  find 
safety?  And,  with  this  idea  in  my  mind,  I 
selected  Pike's  house,  in  Virgo  Bay,  on  the  shores 
of  the  Danish  Strait,  across  from  old  Smeeren- 

35 


36  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

burg,  as  an  advantageous  site  for  the  inflation  of 
such  a  balloon  and  a  start  toward  the  Pole.  Ad- 
vantageous, because  this  place  can  be  reached 
every  summer  by  ship  from  Norway,  and  be- 
cause it  is  only  600  nautical  or  about  700  statute 
miles  from  the  Pole,  being,  in  fact,  just  half- 
way between  Tromso,  the  smart  town  in  northern 
Norway,  and  the  Pole. 

Going  to  Paris,  I  spent  several  weeks  in  con- 
ference with  the  firm  of  Godard  and  Surcouf, 
leading  balloon  builders.  They  supplied  the 
aeronautic  skill,  I  the  requirements  and  details 
for  an  Arctic  voyage.  We  planned  to  build  a 
monster  balloon,  one  capable  of  lifting  a  total 
of  some  fifteen  thousand  pounds,  one  which  could 
carry  the  crew,  dogs,  sledges,  and  plenty  of  food 
as  well  as  a  small  boat  and  all  the  other  neces- 
saries so  that  at  any  moment  the  aerial  expedition 
could  in  case  of  need  be  converted  into  a  fully 
equipped  sledging  party  prepared  to  travel  the 
pack  for  many  months. 

The  cost  of  this  expedition  was  to  be  about 
$100,000.  And  whilst  I  was  wondering  where 
I  could  raise  so  much  money,  and  debating  with 
myself  whether  or  not  I  wished  to  go  into  the 
enterprise  even  if  the  money  could  be  found,  a 
strange  thing  happened — one  of  those  freaks  of 
fate  which  so  often  mould  the  lives  of  men  for 
good  or  evil. 


PLAN  TO  USE  A  BALLOON       37 

An  old  friend,  H.  H.  Kohlsaat,  the  Chicago 
newspaper  publisher,  was  then  in  Paris.  I  did 
not  know  he  was  there,  but  he  knew  I  was.  He 
tried  to  find  me.  Like  other  Americans,  I 
usually  register  my  address  at  the  Paris  office  of 
the  New  York  Herald;  this  time,  for  some  reason, 
I  had  not  done  so.  Mr.  Kohlsaat  inquired  at  the 
Herald  office,  and  many  other  places,  but  could 
not  find  me. 

And  what  do  you  suppose  he  wanted  of  me? 
Just  before  this  he  had  sold  real  estate  in  Chi- 
cago for  nearly  a  million  dollars,  expecting  to  use 
a  part  of  the  money  buying  out  the  interest  of  his 
partner,  Wm.  Penn  Nixon,  of  the  Chicago  Inter- 
Ocean.  But  it  turned  out  that  Mr.  Nixon  used 
his  option  and  bought  Mr.  Kohlsaat's  interest 
for  a  large  sum  in  cash,  and  the  result  was  Mr. 
Kohlsaat  had  in  hand  more  than  a  million  dol- 
lars. He  had  heard  something  of  my  Arctic 
plans;  and  while  he  knew  nothing  of  the  details 
of  such  expeditions,  he  did  know  me,  and  evi- 
dently had  some  faith  in  me  as  a  man.  For  he 
was  hunting  me  in  Paris  with  the  intention  of 
offering  me  the  capital  to  equip  another  expedi- 
tion! 

All  this  I  did  not  learn  till  long  afterward. 
Meanwhile,  reflecting  upon  the  proposed  polar 
effort  by  balloon,  I  had  lost  faith  in  the  idea. 
There  seemed  to  be  little  prospect  of  success  with 


38  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

a  motorless  balloon,  a  mere  toy  of  the  winds, 
without  propulsive  power  or  ability  to  steer  to 
the  right  or  left;  and  I  made  no  effort  to  raise 
the  capital  for  the  venture. 

But  if  Mr.  Kohlsaat  and  I  had  met  in  Paris, 
and  he  had  offered  me  the  money  before  my  en- 
thusiasm had  cooled  with  reflection,  it  is  quite 
probable  I  should  have  accepted  his  generous  aid. 
And  in  that  case  I  should  have  been  back  in 
Spitzbergen  in  1895  with  a  polar  balloon  de- 
signed to  drift  toward  the  Pole. 

One  year  later  Professor  Andree,  of  Stock- 
holm, did  take  up  the  balloon  idea ;  had  a  balloon 
built  in  Paris — not  as  large  and  good  a  one  as 
we  had  planned;  took  it  to  Spitzbergen  in  1896, 
and,  strangely  enough,  built  his  balloon  house 
and  established  his  base  at  the  very  spot  on  the 
shores  of  Dane's  Island  I  had  picked  out  two 
years  before! 

Andree,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  unable  to 
make  his  flight  in  1896,  and  was  attacked  by  the 
yellow  press  of  his  own  and  other  countries  as  a 
bluffer  and  fakir  because  he  had  sense  enough  not 
to  start  before  the  conditions  were  favorable. 
Brave  as  he  was  in  ignoring  the  cowards  who  love 
to  throw  printer's  ink  and  other  nasty  stuff  at  a 
man  who  tries  to  do  something  and  doesn't  do  it 
quickly  enough  to  suit  the  mob — the  mob  that 
always  howls  to  have  the  gladiator  kill  the  beast 


PLAX  TO.  USE  A  BALLOON       39 

or  the  beast  eat  the  gladiator  the  first  half  hour 
or  damns  it  as  a  poor  show — he  at  last  fell  victim 
to  their  goadings. 

By  the  following  year  he  had  learned  that  his 
balloon  was  a  poor  one ;  that  it  did  not  hold  gas 
well.  He  realized  it  was  not  fit  for  such  a  voy- 
age, even  if  the  plan  itself  was  sound.  But  An- 
dree  knew  if  he  failed  to  start,  the  yellow  press 
would  hound  him  into  his  grave,  and  he  preferred 
death  in  the  Arctics. 

I  know  from  men  who  were  with  him  that 
Andree  said,  just  before  he  sailed,  in  July,  1897, 
that  he  was  committing  suicide.  He  did  not 
dare  abandon  his  effort  and  go  home  to  face  the 
newspapers.  H"e  did  start ;  his  balloon  drifted  to 
the  north,  then  to  the  east  and  a  little  south. 

It  was  pretty  well  settled  that  within  thirty  to 
forty  hours  it  came  down  in  the  ice-strewn 
Barentz  Sea  to  the  east  of  Spitzbergen.  Andree 
and  his  two  brave  comrades  were  never  more 
heard  of . 


CHAPTER  V 

FRANZ    JOSEF   LAND 

There  is  an  old  saying  that  if  a  man  goes  once 
to  the  Polar  regions,  he  is  sure  to  go  again — that 
the  lure  of  the  north  is  irresistible.  It  proved 
to  be  so  in  my  case.  In  1898-9  I  determined  to 
have  a  real  try  at  the  Pole  by  the  ship  and  sledge 
method.  With  great  difficulty  enough  money 
was  raised,  the  late  President  McKinley,  Vice- 
President  Hobart,  J.  Pierpont  Morgan,  William 
C.  Whitney,  Cornelius  Bliss,  Judge  Lambert 
Tree,  Levi  Z.  Leiter,  Helen  Gould,  William  K. 
Vanderbilt,  my  brother  Arthur  Wellman,  and 
other  friends  assisting.  By  putting  in  what  lit- 
tle I  had — and  facing  a  debt  of  $6,000,  which  was 
paid  out  of  my  earnings  as  a  journalist  after 
my  return — an  expedition  was  organized  and 
equipped,  the  ice-steamer  Frithjof  chartered, 
and  a  small  company  of  Americans  and  Nor- 
wegians started  from  Tromso,  Norway,  for 
Franz  Josef  Land,  a  considerable  archipelago, 
which  lies  to  the  east  and  north  of  Spitzbergen 
and  north  of  Russia,  and  which  then  had  been 
only  in  part  explored. 

40 


I    SUDDENLY    DROPPED    STRAIGHT    DOWN    IN    THE    SNOW.' 


FRANZ  JOSEF  LAND  41 

There  were  three  Americans  with  us — Dr.  Ed- 
ward Hofma,  of  Michigan;  Quirof  Harlan, 
from  the  Coast  and  Goedetic  Survey,  and  Evelyn 
Baldwin,  who  had  been  with  Peary  in  one  of  his 
expeditions  to  Greenland.  Among  my  Nor- 
wegian crew  wrere  Paul  Bjoervig,  of  whom  I 
have  already  written;  Emil  Ellefsen,  who  had 
also  been  with  me  in  the  Spitzbergen  trip,  his 
brother  Olaf,  Daniel  Johansen,  and  Bernt  Bent- 
zen,  who  had  been  one  of  the  crew  of  the  famous 
Frain  on  the  three-year  drift  voyage  through 
the  Polar  Sea. 

June  26,  1908,  we  sailed  from  Tromso,  in  the 
expedition  steamer  Frithjof,  a  staunch  ship 
specially  built  for  hard  work  in  heavy  ice.  At 
Archangel,  Russia,  we  took  on  board  eighty- 
three  draught  dogs,  which  Alexander  Tron- 
theim,  of  Tobolsk,  had  procured  for  us  in  sub- 
Arctic  Siberia,  among  the  Ostiaks,  who  live  near 
the  mouth  of  the  River  Ob.  A  two  thousand 
mile  journey  across  mountains,  tundras,  steppes, 
and  rivers  had  the  faithful  Trontheim  brought 
his  pack,  assisted  by  others,  and  a  caravan  of 
reindeer. 

Leaving  Archangel,  July  4th,  we  steamed 
northward  through  the  White  Sea  to  the  Arctic 
Ocean,  and  in  a  week  met  the  pack-ice  at  the 
77th  parallel  of  latitude.  Very  discouraging 
was  our  first  onslaught  upon  the  frigid  bulwarks 


42  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

with  which  the  well-nigh  impregnable  Pole  is  sur- 
rounded. We  found  it  impossible  to  break  way 
through  the  pack,  but  did  soon  discover  that  our 
bunkers  were  running  low  of  coal,  and  so  we  went 
back  to  Norway  for  reinforcements.  Then 
north  again,  and  soon  we  were  once  more  strug- 
gling with  the  pack-ice.  A  week  of  ramming, 
shoving,  crowding,  shivering  through  leads  and 
openings,  forcing  them  often  where  they  did  not 
exist,  varied  by  frequent  fogs  in  which  it  was 
necessary  to  lie  to  because  we  could  not  see  a 
ship's  length  ahead,  brought  us  at  last  near  the 
shores  of  Franz  Josef  Land. 

Happy  indeed  were  we  all  when,  on  July  27th, 
we  first  beheld  the  glacier-capped  mountains  of 
this  remote  region.  To  our  imaginations  it  pre- 
sented itself  as  a  paradise  of  opportunity.  Next 
day,  with  anxious  hearts,  we  anchored  at  Cape 
Flora,  which  for  three  years  had  been  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Jackson-Harmsworth  (English) 
Expedition.  Here  it  was  that  Nansen  and  Jack- 
son had  had  their  dramatic  meeting  two  years 
before — a  chance  encounter  which  doubtless 
saved  the  lives  of  Nansen  and  his  faithful  com- 
rade, Lieutenant  Johansen.  Here,  too,  we  had 
hoped  to  find  another  intrepid  traveler.  When 
last  heard  from,  Andree's  balloon  was  drifting 
in  this  direction  from  Spitzbergen,  and  as  he 
knew  of  the  existence  at  this  point  of  a  good 


FRANZ  JOSEF  LAND  43 

house  amply  stocked  with  provisions,  it  was  not 
impossible  he  had  been  able  to  make  his  way 
hither  the  previous  autumn.  Great  was  our 
disappointment  when  we  saw  the  doors  and 
windows  of  Jackson's  house  all  boarded  and  bar- 
red, for  we  realized  that  thus  ended  all  reason- 
able expectation  that  the  brave  Swedes  were  to 
be  seen  again  among  the  living. 

We  vainly  endeavored  to  push  our  ship  north- 
ward throught  a  strait,  and  later  tried  to  steam 
round  the  southeastern  islands  where  the  Aus- 
tro-Hungarian  ship  Tegetthoff  was  lost  in  1874, 
and  thus  to  the  north.  But  finding  the  way 
everywhere  blocked  with  heavy  ice,  we  finally 
decided  to  establish  our  headquarters  at  Cape 
Tegetthoff,  Hall  Island,  latitude  80:05;  and 
there  we  set  up  our  little  hut  and  landed  our 
stores,  equipment  and  dogs. 

In  three  days  the  ship  sailed  for  Norway,  and 
we  were  left  alone  for  at  least  a  year  in  the 
wilderness  of  ice.  We  were  the  only  human  in- 
habitants of  that  vast  region,  and*  our  nearest 
neighbors  were  Russians  and  Samoyedes  in  Nova 
Zembla,  five  hundred  miles  to  the  southward.  A 
month  or  two  of  working  weather  remained  be- 
fore the  winter  should  come  down  upon  us  and 
we  lost  no  time  in  setting  our  column  in  motion. 

Two  days  after  the  ship  left  us,  a  party  under 
the  command  of  the  meteorologist,  Mr.  E.  B. 


44  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Baldwin,  of  the  United  States  Weather  Bureau, 
set  out  to  establish  an  outpost  farther  north,  the 
farther  the  better.  They  started  with  sledges, 
two  small  boats,  dogs  and  provisions,  traversing 
a  solid  sheet  of  comparatively  smooth  ice  upon 
bay  and  strait.  The  outlook  was  promising. 
But  conditions  often  change  with  surprising  ra- 
pidity in  the  Arctics,  and  in  less  than  forty-eight 
hours  this  party  found  the  apparently  sound  and 
safe  ice  breaking  up  under  their  feet  and  drift- 
ing rapidly  out  to  sea  in  strong  off-shore  winds. 
They  had  to  leap  from  one  floating  floe  to  an- 
other, now  and  then  hurriedly  launching  one  of 
their  small  boats,  only  to  pull  them  up  again  as 
quickly  as  possible  to  save  them  from  being 
crushed  in  the  ice.  Nothing  but  desperate,  even 
heroic  work  enabled  them  to  escape  with  their 
lives  and  outfit  and  leap  to  solid  land.  Along 
the  shore,  over  rough  stones  and  precipitous 
glacier-debris,  now  moving  a  part  of  their  loads 
short  distances  by  boat  in  open  water,  again 
taking  to  the  ice-covered  mountain  side  for  a 
hazardous  journey  over  fissures  and  crevasses, 
they  struggled  for  fully  a  month.  Then  the  on- 
coming winter  and  the  broken,  drifting  ice 
which  filled  the  channel  before  them  compelled 
a  halt  for  good. 

They  stopped  upon  a  rocky  point  called  Cape 
Heller,  a  little  south  of  the  eighty-first  parallel 


FRANZ  JOSEF  LAND  45 

of  latitude.  Only  once  had  human  feet  trod 
these  shores,  and  that  was  a  quarter  of  a  century 
before,  when  Payer,  the  discoverer  of  Franz 
Josef  Land,  passed  nearby  on  a  sledge  trip.  A 
few  miles  to  the  westward,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
sound,  Nansen  and  Johansen  had  spent  the 
winter  of  1895-6  in  a  little  hut  or  cave.  Our 
men  at  once  set  to  work  to  establish  a  post. 

The  first  thing  was  to  build  a  hut.  For  this 
work  they  had  better  tools  than  Nansen  and  his 
comrade,  but  no  better  materials — only  such  as 
the  country  afforded.  They  gathered  rocks  and 
piled  up  the  rough  walls  of  a  house.  Two  pieces 
of  drift-wood,  brought  from  Siberian  rivers  by 
current  and  tide,  formed  the  ridge-pole.  The 
dried  skins  of  walrus  which  were  killed  in  a  bay 
served  for  a  roof.  A  chimney  was  built  at  one 
side  and  upon  a  hearth  of  flat  rocks  small  blocks 
of  dried  driftwood  and  hunks  of  walrus  blubber 
were  burned,  not  for  purposes  of  heating,  but  to 
boil  the  coffee  and  soup  and  fry  the  savory 
steaks  of  polar  bear. 

Tons  of  walrus  meat  were  cut  in  small  squares 
out  of  the  huge  carcasses  of  fifteen  of  the  sea- 
horses and  stored  away  in  an  ice  house  (good  re- 
frigerator) for  the  sustenance  of  the  forty  dogs 
during  the  long  winter.  A  ton  of  condensed 
food  for  human  use  wras  accumulated  here,  most 
of  it  designed  for  the  sledging  parties  the  next 


46  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

spring.  With  blocks  of  snow  and  ice,  the  men 
built  huge  walls  around  the  hut  to  afford  some 
protection  from  the  winter's  storms,  making  the 
camp  look  very  much  indeed  like  a  fort;  and  so 
they  named  it  Fort  McKinley. 

Our  men  had  some  lively  adventures  hunting 
walrus  in  the  bay  near  Fort  McKinley.  As  a 
rule  the  w^alrus  is  a  harmless  brute.  His  atten- 
tions to  the  human  beings  who  invade  his  realm 
are  usually  confined  to  swimming  about  the  boat 
for  half  an  hour  or  longer,  alternately  diving  and 
coming  to  the  surface  again.  Whenever  his  ugly 
head  appears  above  the  water,  curiosity  and  good 
nature  are  seen  bulging  from  his  little  round  eyes. 
He  acts  as  if  this  visitation  of  human  beings, 
with  their  boats  and  oars  and  things,  was  a  sort 
of  circus  got  up  for  his  special  amusement;  but 
wound  a  cow  or  calf,  and  you  may  have  a  differ- 
ent story  to  tell. 

That  is  what  our  men  did  one  day.  They  shot 
a  mother  walrus  that  had  a  calf  under  her  flip- 
pers, and  they  were  trying  their  best  to  secure  the 
two  carcasses  before  they  should  sink  in  the  bay. 
Suddenly  they  were  surrounded  by  five  or  six 
big  bulls,  roaring  and  snorting  in  their  anger  at 
this  murderous  attack  upon  their  tribe.  One 
bull  walrus,  with  his  weight  of  from  1200  to  1500 
pounds,  which  he  is  able  to  throw  half  out  of 
water,  and  with  his  huge  tusks  a  foot  and  a  half 


FRANZ  JOSEF  LAND  47 

in  length,  which  may  rip  the  boat  and  capsize  it, 
is  a  dangerous  foe  when  you  are  out  in  a  boat  only 
fifteen  feet  long.  But  here  were  half  a  dozen, 
all  ferociously  angry,  and  all  making  for  the  one 
small  boat  in  which  our  three  men  sat.  The 
lives  of  those  men  depended  upon  the  manner  in 
which  they  met  the  onslaught.  Fortunately  they 
were  experienced  walrus-hunters,  and  not  a  man 
of  them  lost  his  nerve.  Bernt  Bentzen,  he  of  the 
mighty  shoulders,  gave  a  few  strokes  with  the 
oars,  and  sent  the  boat  flying  so  that  the  enemy 
might  not  all  be  able  to  board  at  the  same  in- 
stant. Paul  Bjoervig,  who  knows  walrus  as  well 
as  he  knows  his  own  children,  told  Mr.  Baldwin, 
who  had  the  one  gun  in  the  party,  when  and  where 
to  shoot,  that  not  an  instant  or  a  bullet  might  be 
wasted,  and  he,  good  shot,  quick  as  a  cat,  emptied 
the  chamber  of  his  Winchester  with  telling  ef- 
fect. 

Bull  after  bull  retreated  with  a  ball  in  his  eye, 
the  only  spot  worth  hitting  in  a  walrus,  for  his 
skin  is  an  armor-plate  of  gristle  and  blubber,  four 
inches  in  thickness.  The  bay  was  red  with 
blood,  the  waters  were  lashed  into  foam  and  the 
bellowing  of  the  bulls  filled  the  air  with  a  horrid 
din.  They  came  finally  faster  than  Mr.  Baldwin 
could  take  care  of  them.  Then  Bernt  and  Paul 
rose  up,  each  with  an  oar  in  his  hands  and  beat 
the  beasts  over  the  head.  Every  time  one  of  the 


48  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

ugly  snoots  rose  by  the  side  of  the  boat,  with  the 
wicked  tusks  gleaming  white,  there  was  an  oar  to 
meet  it,  or  perchance  a  leaden  ball.  For  fully  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  the  battle  raged,  and  then,  to 
the  great  relief  of  our  weary  men,  the  enemy  sud- 
denly withdrew  one  by  one,  leaving  two  of  their 
number  floating  lifeless  upon  the  bay. 

Late  in  October,  pursuant  to  his  instructions, 
Mr.  Baldwin  prepared  to  return  to  Harmsworth 
House,  our  headquarters  at  Cape  Tegetthof. 
He  called  for  two  volunteers  to  remain  at  the  out- 
post during  the  winter  to  care  for  the  dogs  and 
guard  the  stores  and  equipment.  All  the  men 
offered  themselves.  Paul  Bjoervig  and  Bernt 
Bentzen  were  chosen,  whereat  Emil  and  Olaf  El- 
lefsen  and  Daniel  Johansen  were  grievously  dis- 
appointed. As  for  Bjoervig  and  Bentzen,  they 
were  delighted.  Neighbors  and  comrades  at 
home,  adventurous  spirits  both,  this  chance  of 
spending  an  Arctic  winter  together  in  a  snug 
little  hut,  with  plenty  to  eat  and  smoke,  was  to 
them  the  realization  of  a  dream.  Little  did  they 
know  what  the  fates  had  in  store  for  them. 


'  THE    CUB    BRAVELY    ATTEMPTED    TO    DEFEND    HIMSELF.' 


CHAPTER  VI 

THROUGH    THE   ARCTIC    WINTER 

The  three  of  us  who  had  remained  at  the  camp 
where  the  Frithjof  landed  us  had  plenty  to  do. 
Well  do  I  remember  the  day  we  began  our 
strange  life  in  this  remote  region.  It  was  Au- 
gust 2,  1898.  The  steamer  was  to  start  for  Nor- 
way in  the  morning.  This,  therefore,  was  letter- 
day,  and  every  man  of  us  was  writing  to  family 
and  friends  at  home.  It  is  not  often  one  sits 
down  to  write  the  last  words  that  can  be  de- 
spatched for  at  least  a  year ;  and  it  is  astonishing 
how  many  people  one  wishes  to  write  to  at  such  a 
moment,  and  what  a  lot  he  has  to  say  to  certain 
persons. 

Anything  but  a  joyful  moment  was  it  that 
morning  when  we  stood  upon  the  wind-swept 
plateau  of  Cape  Tegetthoff,  and  watched  the 
Frithjof  steam  away.  To  go  with  her  meant 
return  to  home,  family,  friends,  all  the  comforts 
of  life.  To  stay  meant  a  long  struggle  against 
cold,  darkness,  and  storm,  lonely  hours,  weary 
tramps  through  slush  and  snow,  yet  not  one  of 
us  wished  to  be  upon  the  ship.  Already  we  were 

49 


50  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

under  the  influence  of  the  Arctic  spell.  Its 
glamour  was  in  our  eyes,  its  fever  in  our  blood. 
We  were  in  the  mood  to  appreciate  the  beauties 
which  nature  had  lavishly  strewn  about  our  fu- 
ture home. 

This  far-off  northern  world  was  bathed  in  the 
most  brilliant  sunlight,  glistening  upon  sea  and 
icebergs  and  glaciers,  and  illumining  the  somber 
cliffs  of  the  mountains.  None  of  us  had  ever 
seen  a  more  entrancing  picture  than  the  immense 
glacier  of  McClintock  Island,  fifteen  miles  to 
the  wrest.  It  rose  from  the  ice-strewn,  shim- 
mering sea  a  perfect  sheen  of  purest  white, 
studded  with  billions  upon  billions  of  refracting 
crystals,  to  a  height  of  some  2000  feet.  At  the 
crest  two  eminences  appeared,  side  by  side,  each 
in  its  way  characteristic  of  this  region ;  one,  bold, 
rugged,  and  black,  as  if  by  a  mighty  effort  the 
rocks  had  shaken  themselves  loose  from  the  grip 
of  the  ice-king,  standing  forth  in  sullen  inde- 
pendence, a  landmark  for  forty  miles  around; 
the  other  more  graceful,  submissive,  but  still 
proud,  lifting  its  head  toward  the  sky,  erect  and 
majestic,  though  wearing  the  white  robes  of  its 
frigid  conqueror  to  the  very  summit. 

In  the  foreground  were  the  cliffs  of  Cape 
Tegetthoff,  showing  black  where  the  snow  and 
frost  had  fallen  from  their  precipitate  sides ;  and 
the  glaciers  debouching  into  the  little  valleys, 


THE  ARCTIC  WINTER  51 

melting  in  the  heat  of  this  mid-summer  sun,  and 
pouring  musically-gurgling  streams  down  to  the 
sea.  Out  over  the  waters  were  to  be  seen  a 
number  of  low,  rounded,  white  islands,  and  near 
the  southern  margin  of  one  of  them  we  knew 
the  exploring  ship  Tegetthoff  had  a  quarter  of 
a  century  before  been  abandoned  by  the  Aus- 
trians,  who,  through  the  accident  of  an  ice-bound, 
aimless  drift,  had  discovered  this  land.  To  the 
northeast  several  capes  rose  darkly  from  the  mar- 
ble-sheeted land,  guide-posts  along  our  route  to 
the  unexplored  regions  beyond. 

The  task  of  house-building  was  at  once  begun, 
and  in  four  or  five  hours  we  ate  our  first  meal 
in  the  most  northerly  inhabited  house  in  the 
world,  and,  in  fact,  the  most  northerly  of  all 
habitable  dwellings,  excepting  only  two — the 
Greely  house  in  Grinnell  Land,  and  the  hut 
which  the  Wellman  expedition  of  1894  erected 
out  of  the  timbers  of  the  ice-crushed  steamer, 
the  Ragnvald  Jarl,  at  Walden  Island,  Spitz- 
bergen. 

This  was  about  the  queerest  sort  of  house  that 
human  beings  ever  passed  an  Arctic  winter  in. 
It  was  made  in  England,  in  sections  all  ready 
to  be  fitted  together.  For  three  years  it  had 
stood  at  Cape  Flora,  where  the  Jackson-Harms- 
worth  expedition  had  used  it  as  a  storehouse, 
and  Mr.  Jackson  had  said  it  was  not  fit  for 


52  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

human  occupation.  It  really  was  a  poor  thing 
in  comparison  with  the  Russian-built  log-house 
in  which  he  had  passed  his  three  winters.  The 
Russians  know  how  to  build  for  cold  weather. 
In  Archangel  we  had  seen  the  richest  citizens 
living  in  great  massive  houses,  like  our  "frame" 
structures  in  America,  but  each  one  surrounded 
by  tight  walls  of  dressed  and  closely  matched 
logs,  with  an  air-space  left  between  the  inner 
and  outer  shells. 

We  proceeded  to  borrow  one  idea  from  the 
Russians.  Indeed,  our  collapsible  house  was 
designed  upon  the  same  principle,  but  its  two 
walls  were  very  thin,  merely  three-quarter-inch 
boards.  There  were  ten  sections  of  these  boards, 
all  fitting  together  with  bolts,  and  they  also 
matched  the  floor,  which  was  likewise  in  ten 
pieces.  Over  this  structure  of  decagonal  shape 
were  stretched  two  thicknesses  of  oiled  canvas, 
again  with  the  highly  desirable  air-space  between 
them. 

Though  fairly  good  for  a  summer  house,  we 
knew  it  would  never  do  in  that  condition  for  an 
Arctic  winter.  So  we  proceeded  to  build  an- 
other shell  around  it  by  means  of  planks,  well 
braced  and  converging  round  the  stove-pipe  at 
the  apex  of  the  roof.  Thus  we  had  three  walls 
with  two  air-spaces  around  us,  and  as  the  art 
of  keeping  warm,  whether  in  house  or  clothing, 


THE  ARCTIC  WINTER  53 

is  not  to  keep  the  cold  out,  but  to  hold  the  heat 
within,  we  extended  this  principle  in  two  ways; 
first,  we  stretched  over  the  roof  an  old  main- 
sail, which  had  been  discarded  from  the  Wind- 
ward,  the  Jackson-Harmsworth  ship,  afterward 
presented  to  and  used  by  Peary,  giving  us  three 
layers  of  cloth  and  two  air-spaces  over  head; 
second,  we  built  a  snow  wall  around  the  entire 
structure. 

Then  we  put  up  a  storehouse  of  planks  at 
one  side  of  the  decagonal  structure,  and  added 
a  vestibule  outside  that.  We  built  double  doors, 
"chinked"  the  walls  with  moss,  and  covered  the 
whole  with  a  layer  of  "Arctic  marble,"  as  we 
called  the  slabs  of  frozen  snow,  which  were  sa\ved 
out  of  an  old  drift  and  to  any  desired  shape  or 
size.  When  the  storms  came  later  in  the  fall, 
the  whole  camp,  living-room,  store-shed,  vesti- 
bule and  all,  was  buried  under  a  snow  drift. 
The  windows  were  closed  with  five-foot  walls  of 
snow,  and  as  winter  came  on,  about  all  one  could 
see  reminding  him  of  a  human  habitation  was 
the  dark  little  hole  in  the  snow  bank,  through 
which  we  crawled  when  going  in  and  out,  and 
the  diminutive  black  stove-pipe,  working  away 
for  dear  life  at  the  top  of  the  white  peak. 

In  this  house  we  passed  a  comfortable  winter. 
Our  stove  was  a  small  one,  only  fifteen  inches 
in  diameter,  and  it  never  burned  more  than  fifty 


54  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

pounds  of  coal  in  a  day;  but  we  sank  it  through 
the  floor  to  lower  the  fire-box,  and  so  got  all  the 
heat  out  of  it  that  was  possible.  True,  the 
temperature  often  sank  below  zero  in  our  living 
apartment,  and  frost  formed  not  only  upon  the 
ceiling,  but  upon  the  walls  against  which  we  re- 
clined with  our  backs,  as  we  sat  each  in  his  own 
"corner."  But  in  such  a  life  men  speedily  ac- 
custom themselves  to  slight  inconveniences  of 
that  sort. 

Indeed,  familiarity  breeds  contempt  of  cold. 
At  home  we  used  to  think  it  cold  out  of  doors 
if  the  temperature  dropped  below  the  freezing 
point,  and  heavy  overcoats  and  warm  gloves 
were  in  order,  while  Americans  think  they  can- 
not endure  a  temperature  lower  than  sixty-five 
degrees  in  their  houses.  But  up  here  at  Cape 
Tegetthoff  we  habitually  wrote  letters,  sewed  at 
our  clothing,  played  cards,  read  books,  and  ate 
our  meals  in  temperatures  hovering  about  the 
freezing  point.  When  the  temperature  outside 
was  no  lower  than  15  or  20  minus,  and  not  much 
wind  blowing,  we  let  the  fire  go  out  after  sup- 
per, in  order  to  save  coal. 

We  had  our  regular  baths,  too,  even  in  the 
coldest  weather.  As  one  of  the  few  rules  of  the 
house  was  "no  bathing  indoors,"  on  account  of 
the  condensation  of  moisture,  the  bather  took 
his  tub  of  warm  water  out  into  the  storehouse, 


THE  ARCTIC  WINTER  55 

stripped  to  the  skin,  and  enjoyed  himself,  even 
though  the  temperature  out  there  was  usually 
from  15  to  25  below.  This  we  did  without  tak- 
ing cold.  In  fact,  such  a  thing  as  a  cold,  the 
writer  has  never  had  in  the  Arctic  regions. 

One  day  in  early  December  I  had  been  hard 
at  work  for  an  hour  or  two,  testing  the  traction 
of  various  sledges,  pulling  a  two-hundred-pound 
load  up  the  hill  and  through  the  deep  snow. 
Perspiring  at  every  pore,  it  occurred  to  me  to 
make  a  test  of  whether  or  not  it  was  possible  to 
take  cold  up  there.  Though  attired  in  ordinary 
clothing,  such  as  one  wears  at  home  in  mild 
winter  weather,  I  sat  down  in  the  snow  for  thirty 
minutes  by  the  watch,  and  woolly  dogs  came  and 
climbed  all  over  me  in  excess  of  affection.  The 
temperature  was  really  thirty  below,  and  though 
it  did  grow  a  bit.  chilly  before  the  half  hour  was 
up  no  "cold"  was  taken.  In  order  to  inure  my- 
self to  cold,  I  always  washed  face  and  hands  in 
snow  before  breakfast,  no  matter  how  great  the 
cold,  and  have  often  washed  my  feet  in  the  same 
way,  out-doors,  in  low  temperatures.  It  is  re- 
freshing, but  in  amusing  himself  this  way  one 
must  look  sharp  or  he  may  get  a  frost-nip — our 
pampered  feet  are  so  sensitive  to  cold. 

Wool  is  far  and  away  the  best  fabric  for 
Arctic  wear.  Even  wool  will  gather  moisture, 
but  it  is  infinitely  better  than  fur.  Wool  per- 


56  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

mits  the  moisture  of  the  body  to  pass  through 
the  fabric  and  congeal  outside,  where  it  can  be 
brushed  or  shaken  off,  while  furs  retain  it  within. 
Two,  three,  or  more  thicknesses  of  wool  are  bet- 
ter than  one  of  equal  weight.  I  used  to  wear 
two  pairs  of  woolen  mittens;  the  outer  pair  was 
stiff  with  frost,  while  the  inner  pair  was  nearly 
dry  and  quite  warm.  But  one  had  to  be  care- 
ful what  he  did  with  his  mittens,  when  he  took 
them  off,  for  in  a  few  moments  they  would  freeze 
so  stiff  that  it  was  torture  to  put  them  on  again. 
Of  course,  one  needs  plenty  of  clothing  in  the 
far  north,  but  wool  is  the  thing.  Upon  our  dash 
northward,  in  temperatures  of  from  10  to  48 
below  zero,  I  had  nothing  except  a  pair  of  rein- 
deer-skin moccasins  upon  my  feet.  But  within 
these  moccasins,  I  had  from  three  to  five  pairs 
of  thick  woolen  stockings ;  and  outside  the  stock- 
ings was  loose,  dry  grass,  to  absorb  the  moisture. 
I  never  once  had  cold  feet,  and  even  after  I  had 
met  with  an  accident  which  practically  stopped  all 
circulation  of  the  blood  below  the  knee,  in  my  in- 
jured leg,  I  suffered  no  frost-bites.  Upon  my 
body  I  wore  four  suits  of  woolen  underclothing 
and  a  jacket  outside.  In  this  attire  I  was 
warmer  than  my  Norwegian  companions  in  big 
cumbersome  "kooletahs"  of  reindeer  skin. 


GREETING  FELIX  RIESENBERG  IK  THE  SPRING. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WONDERFUL    CLIMATE    OF   THE   ARCTICS 

Contrary  to  the  prevailing  belief,  it  is  not  al- 
ways cold  in  the  Arctic  regions.  Many  people 
do  not  understand  that  the  summers  in  the  Polar 
zones  are  comparatively  mild.  When  the  sun 
shines  brightly  in  July  and  August,  and  often 
far  into  September,  thawing  is  rapid  and  the 
snow  disappears  from  exposed  places.  The 
summer  temperature  in  the  shade,  ranges  pretty 
steadily  about  the  freezing  point.  In  the  sun 
I  have  seen  the  mercury  go  up  to  80  in  a 
Fahrenheit  thermometer.  Just  such  weather  as 
this,  without  any  doubt,  will  be  found  up  to  the 
Pole  itself.  The  North  Pole  lacks  a  good  deal 
of  being  the  coldest  place  in  the  world.  It  is 
colder  in  Siberia  and  in  the  northern  part  of  our 
own  continent.  A  sunny  summer  day  up  near 
the  Pole  is  altogether  delightful,  provided  the 
wind  does  not  blow.  Many  times  have  I  lain 
down  in  the  snow  on  such  days  and  gone  to  sleep 
without  so  much  as  a  blanket  over  me. 

What  may  be  done  in  summer  is  well  shown 
by  an  adventurous  trip  which  two  of  us  made 

57 


58  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

up  the  coast  of  Nordenskiold  Bay.  We  had 
with  us  a  sledge  and  five  dogs,  but  no  tent  or 
sleeping-bags,  as  we  did  not  expect  to  remain 
out  over  night.  Having  crossed  a  big  glacier, 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  in  extent,  we  found  our- 
selves upon  lower  and  very  rough  and  broken 
ice.  It  was  almost  as  if  we  were  upon  a  stretch 
of  rocky  fragments  thrown  up  by  an  earthquake. 
Fissures  and  cracks  ran  in  every  direction,  and 
we  had  to  be  exceedingly  careful  in  our  move- 
ments. 

The  dogs  did  not  at  all  like  this  sort  of  travel- 
ing, with  its  imminent  risk  of  tumbling  at  any 
moment  down  a  crevasse,  a  hundred  or  two  hun- 
dred feet  deep,  and  it  was  interesting  to  note 
how,  amid  these  surroundings,  they  appeared  to 
place  implicit  trust  in  their  masters.  Ordinarily 
they  liked  to  pick  the  road  themselves,  rushing 
along  pellmell,  pulling  their  drivers  after  them. 
But  here  they  would  not  budge  a  foot  unless  one 
of  us  led  the  way.  They  followed  us  with  con- 
fidence, though  not  without  watching  our  steps 
with  the  most  alert  eyes.  Up  to  this  time  the 
beasts  had  been  doing  a  good  deal  of  skylark- 
ing and  fighting,  but  now  they  were  as  sober  as 
judges.  They  did  just  what  we  told  them  to  do, 
too,  something  new  in  our  experience,  and  here 
for  the  first  time  we  were  able  to  teach  them  to 
obey  the  good  American  "Whoa!"  Theretofore 


CLIMATE  OF  THE  ARCTICS      59 

we  had  been  compelled  always  to  employ  the 
Samoyede  synonym,  "Sass!" 

At  length,  while  leading  the  team  through  a 
suspicious  bit  of  broken  ice,  I  suddenly  dropped 
straight  down  to  the  snow  to  my  arm-pits,  and 
had  the  unpleasant  feeling  that  there  was  noth- 
ing but  air  under  my  feet.  I  had  fallen  through 
a  snow  bridge,  and  was  sustained  by  my  out- 
stretched arms.  Somewhere  down  below  I  could 
hear  a  dislodged  piece  of  ice  striking  and  echoing 
on  its  way  to  the  depths.  Fainter  and  fainter 
the  echoes  came,  and  then  ceased  altogether. 
For  all  I  know  that  piece  of  ice  is  dropping  to 
this  day.  The  interesting  question  with  me  at 
that  particular  moment  was  whether  or  not  the 
crumbling  bridge  of  snow  would  support  my 
weight  till  my  companion  could  manage  to  get 
me  out  of  the  danger  of  taking  a  drop  too  much 
myself. 

Shortly  afterward  a  storm  blew  up  and  as  the 
air  was  filled  with  flying  snow,  making  it  im- 
possible to  see  a  sledge  length  ahead,  it  was 
simply  suicide  to  go  on.  If  we  did  not  fall  down 
a  crevasse,  we  should  be  in  danger  of  losing  our 
way,  and  falling  over  the  edge  of  the  glacier  into 
the  sea.  So  we  made  the  best  sort  of  camp  we 
could  and  managed  to  boil  a  little  coffee  over 
our  petroleum  lamp.  But  how  the  winds  did 
whistle  and  the  snow  did  fly  down  the  surface 


60  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

of  that  glacier !  It  was  as  much  as  one  could  do 
to  stand  on  his  feet. 

As  there  appeared  to  be  no  prospect  of  getting 
away  before  morning,  the  problem  which  con- 
fronted us  was  how  we  were  to  get  a  little  sleep. 
It  was  solved  in  a  novel  manner.  Each  of  us 
had  brought  along  a  "kooletah,"  a  big  sack-like 
coat  of  reindeer-skin,  and  so  we  took  off  our 
boots  and  lay  down  upon  the  ice  with  our  backs 
to  the  winds  and  our  heads  pointed  in  opposite 
directions.  Then  we  telescoped  ourselves  to- 
gether as  far  as  we  could,  each  running  his  feet 
under  the  other's  coat.  My  comrade's  toes  were 
in  the  small  of  my  back,  while  mine  were  snug 
and  comfortable  on  his  abdomen.  Lapping  the 
skirts  of  our  coats,  and  pulling  the  hoods  over 
our  faces,  we  were  quite  comfortable  so  far  as 
the  cold  was  concerned. 

The  chief  trouble  was  the  hardness  of  the 
ice,  and  the  numbness  and  cramps  in  the  legs  and 
hips  due  thereto.  But  despite  all  drawbacks  we 
managed  to  get  both  rest  and  sleep.  To  help 
us  out,  the  dogs  came  and  snuggled  up  as  close 
as  they  could  get,  and  though  it  was  scarcely 
fair  of  them  to  persist  in  shoving  their  noses  up 
under  our  hoods  and  kissing  our  faces,  we  could 
not  well  object  so  long  as  they  helped  to  keep 
us  warm. 

In    August,    after    our    advance    party    had 


CLIMATE  OF  THE  ARCTICS      61 

gone,  we  tried  to  use  our  small  boats  in  forward- 
ing more  provisions  toward  the  north.  But  the 
sea  beat  heavily  upon  the  beach  nearly  all  the 
time,  and  we  had  to  watch  for  chances  to  launch 
our  tiny  craft.  On  one  occasion  Olaf  and 
Daniel,  with  Dr.  Hofma,  started  across  Nor- 
denskiold  Bay  in  a  small  wooden  rowboat,  tow- 
ing a  canvas  scow  heavily  laden  with  stores. 
The  bay  was  comparatively  smooth  when  they 
started;  but  a  storm  blew  up  with  incredible 
suddenness,  and  kicked  up  such  a  heavy  sea  that 
the  waves  were  soon  rolling  over  the  gunwales 
of  both  boats  and  threatening  to  swamp  them. 
With  quick  decision  the  Norwegian  boatmen 
turned  and  ran  with  the  wind  toward  an  ice-floe 
nearby,  and,  reaching  it,  tied  up  the  scow,  leav- 
ing Dr.  Hofma  in  charge,  and  made  for  the 
shore  to  unload  their  own  cargo. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Dr.  Hofma  found 
himself  in  a  most  dangerous  situation.  His  ice- 
floe was  rearing  and  plunging  in  the  waves,  and 
the  canvas  scow  was  liable  to  go  down  at  any 
moment.  Surf  was  beating  over  him  and  his 
goods,  and  the  half  dozen  dogs  which  had  been 
left  with  him  were  howling  in  terror.  Worse 
than  all,  he  was  drifting  straight  toward  a 
glacier-face  from  fifty  to  seventy  feet  perpen- 
dicular, against  which  the  sea  was  beating  with 
terrific  force,  churning  up  and  down  in  wildest 


62  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

fashion  the  accumulated  debris  of  ice-floes.  To 
drive  into  this  maelstrom  meant  instant  destruc- 
tion. 

The  brave  Norwegian  youths  put  off  from  the 
shore  in  the  teeth  of  the  storm.  They  bent  their 
sturdy  backs,  and  rarely  have  oarsmen  worked 
closer  to  the  last  notch  of  endurance  than  our 
boys  did  this  day.  In  the  nick  of  time  they 
reached  the  doctor,  who  was  imperturbably  bal- 
ing out  his  water-logged  scow;  and,  taking  that 
craft  in  tow,  they  made  once  more  for  the  shore. 
Xow  followed  another  struggle,  and  for  a  time 
a  doubtful  one.  The  wind  appeared  to  be  de- 
termined to  add  the  two  boats  to  the  chaos  it  had 
kicked  up  at  the  foot  of  the  glacier,  while  the 
oarsmen  were  bent  upon  cheating  the  elements 
of  their  prey.  At  last  muscle  and  courage  won 
the  battle,  greatly  to  the  joy  of  my  companion 
and  myself,  who  had  run  over  from  the  house 
and  stood  now  watching  the  struggle. 

By  this  time  the  ice  was  running  in  at  a  fright- 
ful pace,  and  at  one  moment  it  looked  as  if  the 
boats  were  surely  caught  and  destroyed  between 
two  heavy  floes  crushing  together;  but  by  a 
dextrous  movement  the  boatman  slipped  through 
a  narrow  channel  and  into  safe  water.  Fortu- 
nately, the  beach  was  shelving  sand,  and  the  shoal 
prevented  the  heavy  ice  coming  close  in  shore 
and  formed  a  protecting  pier  three  or  four  rods 


CLIMATE  OF  THE  ARCTICS      63 

out.  The  boats  could  not  get  quite  in  either, 
and  the  only  way  in  which  we  could  unload  them 
was  by  wading  out  in  the  surf  and  carrying 
things  in,  piece  by  piece.  At  first  plunge  these 
ice- water  baths  are  not  so  very  pleasant;  but  the 
plunge  once  taken,  one  doesn't  mind  them  at  all. 

During  the  winter  we  had  many  auroral  dis- 
plays of  great  beauty,  and  one  in  particular  on 
December  8th.  It  was  a  perfect  specimen  of 
the  true  corona  aurora,  a  form  not  often  seen. 
From  near  the  horizon  at  all  points  of  the  com- 
pass great  white  and  colored  streams  of  light 
shot  toward  the  zenith,  and  there  mingled  their 
rays  in  a  common  center.  It  was  just  as  if  all 
the  steam  power  in  the  world  had  been  multiplied 
a  million  fold,  all  of  it  turned  to  the  generation 
of  electricity,  and  all  this  voltaic  energy  were 
poured  through  the  lenses  of  vast  searchlights 
placed  in  every  city,  town  and  village  the  world 
round ;  and  then  at  a  preconcerted  signal  by  tele- 
graph, all  were  set  playing  and  dancing  upon  the 
very  apex  of  the  heavens. 

A  day  and  a  night  up  near  the  North  Pole 
compass  a  year.  At  the  Pole  itself  there  is  but 
one  sunrise  and  but  one  sunset  in  a  twelve- 
month. About  March  20th  sunlight  reaches  the 
spot  which  marks  the  northern  termination  of 
the  axis  of  our  earth,  and  it  does  not  go  away 
until  September  20th.  When  it  goes,  it  goes 


64  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

for  good;  the  six-months  day  is  followed  by  the 
six-months  night.  At  our  winter  camp,  600 
geographical  miles  south  of  the  Pole,  the  sun  rose 
above  and  disappeared  below  the  horizon  each 
24  hours  during  about  seven  weeks  in  the  spring 
and  a  like  period  in  the  fall.  But  practically  we 
had  only  one  day  and  one  night. 

Every  part  of  the  earth's  surface  receives 
theoretically  the  same  amount  of  sunlight  as 
every  other  part.  Nature  makes  no  discrimina- 
tions in  this  respect.  The  North  Pole  has  just 
as  many  hours  of  sunlight  in  a  year  as  the 
Equator,  and  at  Cape  TegetthofT  we  had  the  sat- 
isfaction of  knowing  that  not  even  sunny  Italy 
was  basking  in  the  great  orb's  favor  to  a  greater 
extent  than  we. 

The  difference  is  that  in  the  Arctic  regions  we 
get  our  sunlight — and  also  our  darkness — in  a 
lump.  At  the  Pole  the  lumps  are  six  months 
long.  At  the  80th  parallel  of  latitude,  where  we 
were,  we  had  the  midnight  sun  in  the  heavens 
for  127  nights,  that  being  the  long  day;  and 
later  we  had  no  sun  at  all,  not  even  at  noon,  for 
127  days,  and  that  was  the  long  winter  night  of 
our  discontent. 


'  P 


t 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ROYAL    SPORT   WITH    POLAR   BEARS 

We  had  much  work  and  hardship  but  not  a 
little  sport  during  our  year  up  there  near  the 
Pole.  Take  it  all  in  all,  I  think  we  had  more 
fun  out  of  polar  bears  than  anything  else. 
Forty-seven,  all  together,  fell  before  our  rifles, 
and  the  amount  of  sport  involved  in  all  this 
slaughter  would  almost  make  a  book  of  itself. 
The  day  the  sun  disappeared  for  a  little  matter 
of  eighteen  weeks — October  19th — I  find  this 
record  in  my  journal: 

"The  loss  of  the  sun  to-day  was  compensated 
for  by  a  most  extraordinary  bear-hunt.  Dr. 
Nansen  said  his  Siberian  dogs  would  not  attack 
bears.  We  wish  Dr.  Nansen  could  have  been 
with  us  to-day  to  see  our  pack  of  twenty  loose 
dogs  pursue  and  attack  the  big  white  fellow  who 
came  shuffling  leisurely  over  the  hill.  As  usual, 
Ursus,  our  black  bear  dog,  was  the  first  to  ap- 
proach the  enemy.  Bruin  simply  looked  at  him 
in  a  half-conscious,  half-indifferent  sort  of  way, 
as  much  as  to  say: 

65 


66  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

"  'You're  the  biggest  fox  I've  seen  in  Franz 
Josef  Land,  but  I'm  not  afraid  of  you.' 

"Then  he  proceeded  in  dignified  fashion  on 
his  way,  turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the 
left,  and  hastening  not  his  gait — a  line  of  con- 
duct altogether  becoming  to  one  of  the  lords  of 
the  isles.  But  when  Ursus  was  reenforced  by 
half  a  dozen,  and  then  a  dozen  and  a  half  of  his 
comrades,  and  the  whole  pack  gathered  round 
the  bear,  yelping  and  dancing  and  showing  their 
teeth,  but  never  quite  getting  hold  of  him,  the 
bear  concluded  that,  after  all,  he  might  have  a 
serious  job  on  his  hands. 

"But  he  made  a  fatal  mistake  in  his  tactics. 
If  he  had  simply  run  away,  as  fast  and  as  far 
as  his  great  legs  could  have  carried  him,  he  would 
have  been  quite  safe,  for  dogs  alone  cannot  kill 
a  full-grown  bear,  even  if  the  odds  are  fifty  to 
one.  Instead,  he  showed  fight  at  once,  and  tried 
to  reach  the  tormentor  nearest  him.  First,  a 
savage  lunge  this  way,  now  the  other,  the  froth- 
ing mouth  wide  open,  displaying  tusks  which 
needed  only  one  chance  to  plant  death  in  the 
vitals  of  the  toughest  dog  that  ever  stood  on 
four  legs.  But  the  pesky  beasts  were  always 
just  out  of  his  reach.  A  dog  can  run  faster  than 
a  bear,  and  move  about  more  agilely,  and  that  is 
the  sum  total  of  his  superiority.  At  each  on- 
slaught the  bear  made  a  break  in  the  circle  about 


SPORT  WITH  POLAR  BEARS      67 

him,  as  the  dogs  had  no  wish  to  come  in  contact 
with  those  terrible  incisors ;  but  a  fire  in  the  rear 
always  caused  him  to  wheel  round,  and  thus  the 
circle  closed  up  again. 

"The  war-dance  continued  till  the  poor  bear 
was  beside  himself  with  rage  and  fatigue.  Xow 
the  swirling,  yelping  mass  had  reached  the  base 
of  the  sharp  incline  that  led  up  to  the  basalt 
mountain  peak.  Up  the  steep,  icy  surface  the 
bear  now  attempted  to  escape  his  pursuers. 
With  prodigious  strength  he  crept  rapidly  up- 
ward, but  the  dogs  were  constantly  at  his  side. 
They  were  in  front  of  him,  behind  him,  all 
around  him;  and  though  some  of  them  lost  their 
footing  and  slipped  to  the  bottom  of  the  glacier, 
others  took  their  places  and  the  luckless  brute 
found  no  peace. 

"Suddenly  the  bear's  huge  paws  slipped  their 
grip,  and  down  he  came — a  veritable  avalanche 
of  flesh  and  fur  that  roared  as  it  rolled.  Fully 
250  feet  he  slid,  most  of  the  way  at  an  angle  of 
forty-five  degrees,  and  by  the  time  he  struck  the 
nearly  level  plateau  he  had  an  impetus  which  car- 
ried him  rolling,  bounding,  ricochetting  among 
the  rocks,  ploughing  through  the  snow  fully  a 
hundred  feet  farther.  His  course  lay  directly 
over  the  spot  where  we  stood  waiting  for  him, 
and  we  politely  and  rather  hastily  stood  aside  to 
give  him  right  of  way.  Some  of  the  dogs  had 


68  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

been  carried  down  with  the  rush,  and  the  others 
were  too  eager  to  wait  to  run  down,  and  so  did 
a  bit  of  tobogganing  on  their  own  account.  Be- 
fore the  bear  could  get  upon  his  feet  the  dogs 
were  all  about  him  once  more.  We  were  there 
too,  and  a  few  Winchester  45.90s  brought  this 
most  sensational  bear-hunt  to  an  end." 

A  rather  pathetic  bear-hunt  was  one  we  had 
a  few  days  later.  Mother  and  cub  came  ambling 
along  the  plateau  side  by  side,  and  of  course  the 
dogs  soon  had  the  pair  surrounded.  When  we 
arrived  upon  the  scene,  after  a  sharp  run  of  a 
mile,  the  battle  was  in  full  course,  with  the  dogs 
getting  decidedly  the  best  of  it.  The  poor  dam 
had  been  harried  almost  into  a  state  of  exhaus- 
tion. Still,  she  kept  up  the  desperate  struggle, 
and  never  once  permitted  her  young  hopeful  to 
get  five  feet  from  her  side.  After  each  lunge 
at  the  nearest  dog,  she  quickly  returned  to  her 
baby,  and  this  fat  graceful  little  fellow  did  his 
best,  you  may  be  sure,  to  keep  close  under 
mama's  protecting  paws. 

It  seemed  impossible  to  shoot  without  hitting 
a  dog,  but  I  decided  to  risk  it,  and  sent  a  Krag- 
Jorgensen  bullet  clean  through  her  body.  With 
the  blood  streaming  from  both  sides,  she  con- 
tinued to  fight  for  her  cub,  and  as  more  bullets 
crashed  through  her  body  and  she  felt  her  hour 
at  hand,  her  last  instinctive  movement  was  to 


SPOR1   WITH  POLAR  BEARS      69 

gather  the  little  fellow  to  her  breast  with  her 
fore-paws,  that  her  tusks  might  give  him  pro- 
tection to  the  last.  Then  she  died. 

Feeling  his  mother's  grip  upon  him  relax,  the 
cub  climbed  upon  her  body  and  bravely  at- 
tempted to  defend  himself.  We  were  not  yet 
so  hardened  in  the  stern  life  of  this  region  that 
we  could  step  up  and  put  a  bullet  through  the 
heart  of  that  trusting  youngster  without  suffer- 
ing qualms  of  conscience.  Soon  mother  and  son 
were  blending  their  blood  there  upon  the  ice. 
Two  of  our  best  dogs  had  this  she-bear  killed  in 
her  fierce  defense  of  her  young. 

The  day  before  Christmas  a  lank,  lean,  hungry 
bear  came  near  evening  up  some  of  the  score 
against  his  tribe.  Though  the  day  was  very 
dark  and  stormy,  I  took  my  usual  walk  out  of 
doors,  to  and  from  the  beach.  The  bear  sneaked 
stealthily  after  me,  and  when  I  turned  to  walk 
back  toward  the  sea  once  more,  there  he  was  in 
the  path  only  a  dozen  feet  away,  crouching  to 
spring.  For  an  instant  only  did  I  hesitate,  and 
that  moment  the  bear  and  I  stood  looking  one 
another  in  the  eye.  There  was  something  about 
his  personal  appearance  I  did  not  like,  and  in- 
stinctively I  resented  any  closer  acquaintance 
with  him.  Then  I  raised  my  arms  and  shouted 
at  him,  and  for  answer  he  leaped  at  me.  I 
sprang  to  one  side,  toward  a  spot  where  I  knew 


70  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

half  a  dozen  dogs  had  been  lying  out  of  the  wind, 
in  the  lee  of  a  packing  box.  Two  seconds  later, 
I  felt  a  heavy  blow  upon  my  shoulder,  and  as  I 
fell  into  the  snow  I  had  the  wreight  of  a  big  paw 
on  my  body. 

"In  another  moment,"  I  said  to  myself,  "he 
will  have  my  head  in  his  mouth." 

But  he  didn't.  At  that  most  interesting  junc- 
ture I  heard  the  welcome  bark  of  the  dogs;  they 
had  scented  the  enemy  and  leaped  to  the  rescue. 
That  heavy  paw  was  lifted  from  my  back,  and 
as  I  scrambled  up  there  was  the  bear,  six  or  eight 
feet  away,  with  the  precious  dogs  yelping  about 
him.  As  luck  would  have  it,  things  turned  out 
a  good  deal  worse  for  the  bear  than  they  did  for 
me.  I  had  only  a  lame  shoulder  and  a  scratch 
on  the  neck,  while  the  bear's  skin,  made  into  a 
rug,  lies  under  my  feet  as  I  write. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    DASH    FOR   THE    POLE 

All  through  the  winter  we  were  preparing 
for  the  sledge  journey  northward  the  following 
spring — spring  in  this  case  having  no  signifi- 
cance such  as  we  are  accustomed  to  in  the  tem- 
perate zones,  balmy  air,  budding  flowers,  all  na- 
ture living  and  glad  again;  the  Arctic  spring 
means  simply  the  return  of  the  sunlight  to  travel 
by,  intense  cold,  many  storms.  But  eager  in- 
deed were  we  for  the  day. 

To  make  ready  for  a  sledge  trip  seems  a 
simple  thing,  but  it  is  like  organizing  an  army 
corps  for  campaigns  far  from  base  in  an  enemy's 
country.  Day  or  night  the  leader  of  the  expedi- 
tion had  but  one  thought,  one  dream,  and  that 
was  to  arrange  the  countless  details  for  the  field 
work,  with  the  fewest  possible  mistakes  and  the 
greatest  possible  number  of  things  that  made 
for  strength  and  security.  A  thousand  pictur- 
esque or  interesting  incidents  of  this  winter  in 
the  darkness  were  almost  forgotten  in  the  con- 
centration of  mind  and  effort  upon  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  sledge  trips. 

71 


72  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

One  journey  was  to  be  made  to  Fort  Mc- 
Kinley  and  beyond — straight  northward — as  far 
as  we  could  go  before  diminution  of  supplies  and 
advancing  summer  commanded  return.  This 
was  "the  dash  for  the  North  Pole,"  which  formed 
one  part  of  our  general  expeditionary  plan. 
The  other  journey,  subsequently  successfully 
carried  out,  compassed  the  second  part  of  our 
general  plan,  which  was  to  explore  the  then  un- 
known eastern  part  of  the  Franz  Josef  Land 
archipelago. 

Acutely  did  we  realize  that  if  we  were  to  beat 
all  records  in  our  approach  to  the  Pole  and  have 
our  chance  actually  to  reach  it  if  we  found  un- 
usually favorable  conditions,  we  must  get  up 
right  early  in  the  Arctic  morning.  The  records 
of  the  past  had  been  established  from  bases  much 
farther  north.  Thus  Lockwood  and  Brainard 
of  the  Greely  party,  who  had  carried  the  stars 
and  stripes  to  83:24,  had  set  out  from  head- 
quarters at  81 :40.  Dr.  Nansen  and  Lieutenant 
Johansen,  who  had  reached  86:14,  had  started 
from  the  Fram  at  84:04.  To  eclipse  the  latter 
achievement  we  should  have  to  travel  440  miles. 
But  this  much  at  least  we  all  believed  we  should 
do,  barring  accident,  if  only  we  could  get  an 
early  start.  Consequently,  on  the  morning  of 
February  18th,  while  I  was  standing  in  the  hut 
for  a  last  flash-light  photograph,  one  of  my  Nor- 


THE  DASH  FOR  THE  POLE   73 

wegians  stuck  his  head  in  at  the  door,  and  called 
out:  "Everything  is  ready,  Sir." 

"And  so  am  I." 

Saying  good-by  to  my  American  comrades, 
not  quite  sure  that  I  should  ever  see  them  again, 
I  went  out  and  took  my  place  at  the  head  of  the 
little  caravan.  Each  of  the  three  Norwegians 
had  a  sledge  and  team  of  dogs  in  charge.  A 
snow  storm  was  raging,  but  we  were  ready  to 
start  and  could  not  stop  for  a  little  storm.  I  led 
the  way,  "tracking"  for  the  dogs  as  best  I  could 
in  the  darkness  and  snow-laden  air.  The  sun 
had  not  yet  risen,  but  in  the  middle  of  the  day 
was  near  enough  to  the  horizon  to  give  us  a  gray, 
hazy  dawn-light.  The  snow  was  soft,  and  we 
sank  into  it  to  the  ankles  and  often  to  the  knees. 
Underneath  there  were  frequent  ridges  and  pro- 
tuberances of  rough  ice  to  trip  the  weary  feet. 

A  strange  experience  it  was,  this  stumbling 
along  like  drunken  men  in  a  gloom,  unable  much 
of  the  time  to  see  far  enough  ahead  to  make 
course  by  landmark,  and  compelled,  therefore,  to 
pick  our  way  with  compass  constantly  in  hand. 
Where  it  was  smooth  enough  we  used  Nor- 
wegian ski  to  advantage,  but  in  the  rougher  spots 
snowshoes  were  of  no  avail.  Upon  our  feet 
we  had  finsko,  or  moccasins  of  reindeer-skin ;  and 
though  these  are  the  best  of  all  footwear  for 
Arctic  use,  their  soles  are  so  slippery  that,  travel- 


74  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

ing  such  a  road  as  ours,  one  was  lucky  if  he  did 
not  fall  sprawling  oftener  than  once  in  ten  min- 
utes. 

Still,  we  made  progress.  And  though  we  had 
set  out  in  the  midst  of  the  Arctic  winter,  fully 
a  month  earlier  than  the  earliest  sledging  start 
hitherto  made  in  high  latitudes  (that  of  Dr.  Nan- 
sen  from  the  Fram) 9  and  though  we  had  all 
sorts  of  weather  from  blinding  snow  storms  to 
drifting  blizzards,  the  sun  finally  showed  his 
smiling  face  above  the  horizon,  the  hours  of  light 
lengthened,  and  we  struggled  patiently  on. 

Fort  McKinley  was  our  goal.  There  we  wrere 
to  take  on  more  sledges  and  dogs  and  increase 
our  load  of  provisions.  How  had  our  men  there 
passed  the  winter  of  their  exile?  Was  all  well 
with  them?  These  were  important  questions, 
for  upon  the  stores  and  dogs  at  the  outpost, 
we  depended  for  an  increase  for  our  sledging 
strength  in  the  race  against  time  and  distance  to 
the  north.  The  plan  was  to  send  Bjoervig  and 
Bentzen  back  to  headquarters,  and  in  the  early 
days  of  March  to  set  out  with  four  teams  and 
sledges  and  my  present  party,  toward  the  Pole. 

Bjoervig  and  Bentzen  had  been  promised  we 
would  raise  their  siege  in  February,  and  eager 
were  we  all  to  keep  our  word.  The  storms  de- 
layed us,  and  at  one  or  two  camps  the  wind  blew 
so  hard  that  pitching  our  tent  was  out  of  the 


THE  DASH  FOR  THE  POLE   75 

question,  and  we  had  to  be  content  with  pegging 
down  its  corners  and  crawling  under — any  place 
to  escape  the  fury  of  the  icy  blast.  When  better 
weather  came,  we  made  hard  marches,  and  on 
the  afternoon  of  the  27th  we  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  the  ridge  behind  the  fort  loom  up  in 
the  white  distance. 

Soon  the  dogs  at  the  fort  set  up  a  shout 
of  welcome  to  their  approaching  brethren,  and 
the  latter,  just  to  show  what  they  could  do  when 
they  had  a  personal  object  in  view,  started  off 
at  a  rapid  run,  dragging  sledges,  men  and  all 
after  them,  although  hitherto  they  had  crawled 
at  a  snail's  pace  and  had  made  progress  at  all 
only  when  helped  by  their  drivers.  At  the  foot 
of  the  hill  the  men  stopped  and  held  the  excited 
teams,  that  I  might  walk  on  before  and  be  the 
first  to  greet  the  two  exiles.  But  aside  from 
an  overturned  boat,  half  buried  in  the  snow,  a 
collection  of  empty  biscuit  and  provision  tins, 
and  a  group  of  dogs  chained  to  the  top  of  a 
bank  of  ice,  I  could  see  nothing  at  all  indicating 
a  human  habitation. 

"The  hut  is  just  before  you,  Sir,  right  behind 
the  dogs,"  said  Emil  Ellefsen. 


CHAPTER  X 

AN    EXTRAORDINARY    TRAGEDY 

There  is  not  an  atom  of  superstition  in  my 
mental  composition.  I  never  had  a  presentiment, 
or  anything  of  that  sort.  But  it  is  the  plain 
truth  that,  as  I  picked  my  way  up  the  rough 
snow  bank  and  through  an  array  of  shaggy 
dogs  all  howling  and  leaping  and  straining  at 
their  leashes,  I  knew  something  had  gone  wrong 
at  the  hut. 

That  instant  a  rough  human  figure  emerged 
from  the  mouth  of  a  tunnel  leading  down  into 
the  snow  bank.  The  man  held  a  rifle  in  his  hand. 
He  was  dressed  in  furs.  His  face  was  as  black 
as  a  stoker's. 

"Bjoervig,  how  are  you?" 

"I  am  well,  Sir,  but — but  poor  Bentzen  is 
dead." 

We  stood  silent  for  a  moment,  hands  grasped, 
and  looking  into  each  other's  eyes.  A  tear 
trickled  down  Bjoervig's  soot-blackened  cheek 
and  froze  there.  Then  his  countrymen  came  up, 
and  when  he  told  them  the  news,  these  simple- 
hearted  fellows  were  as  dumb  as  I  had  been.  It 

76 


EXTRAORDINARY  TRAGEDY     77 

was  Bjoervig  who  did  the  talking.  We  only 
listened  and  watched  him,  being  but  dimly  con- 
scious of  the  true  nature  of  the  tragedy  within 
the  shadow  of  which  we  stood.  Bjoervig  talked 
and  laughed  and  cried  by  turns,  but  he  did  not 
forget  his  hospitality.  "Come  in,  Sir,  come  in 
and  have  some  hot  coffee.  You  must  be  tired 
from  your  journey." 

He  dived  down  into  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel, 
pulling  me  after  him.  First  we  entered  a  little 
cavern  where  a  mother  dog  lay,  nursing  a  hairy, 
squeaking  brood.  Hardy  puppies  these,  open- 
ing their  eyes  and  gulping  milk  in  a  temperature 
70  degrees  below  freezing.  The  mother  dog 
licked  Bjoervig's  hand  and  growled  at  me. 
Now  we  went  down  upon  our  hands  and  knees, 
and  crawled  through  an  opening  in  the  rock 
wall  of  the  hut.  A  bear-skin  was  hung  there 
for  a  door.  Once  inside,  I  tried  to  stand  erect 
and  bumped  my  head  against  the  ice  with  which 
the  ceiling  was  covered.  It  was  so  dark  in  there 
I  could  see  nothing,  and  Bjoervig  led  me  to  a 
seat. 

"Sit  down,  Sir,  sit  down  and  rest  yourself, 
and  I'll  have  the  coffee  ready  in  a  moment." 

At  one  side  of  the  hut,  in  a  niche  in  the  rocky 
wall,  a  fire  was  smoldering.  Bjoervig  put  on  a 
few  pieces  of  driftwood  and  a  big  hunk  of  wal- 
rus blubber,  and  the  flames  burst  out.  Very 


78  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

cheerful  and  bright  the  fire  looked,  but  not  a 
particle  of  heat  did  we  get  from  it.  What  was 
not  used  in  boiling  the  coffee  went  up  the  chim- 
ney. Three  feet  from  the  flames  the  rocks  were 
white  with  a  thick  coat  of  frost,  and  all  the  walls 
and  roof  glittered  like  a  bed  of  diamonds. 

It  was  a  strange  little  den,  and  to  me  it  seemed 
colder  than  out  of  doors.  The  brilliant  fire  was 
but  mockery.  Fairly  well  illumined  was  the  end 
of  the  hut  where  we  sat,  but  beyond  was  a  gloomy 
recess  from  which  the  light  of  the  flames  was  cut 
off  by  a  pier  of  rocks  which  served  as  a  support 
for  the  roof.  There  was  no  window. 

Bjoervig  told  me  about  Bentzen.  The  poor 
fellow  had  been  taken  ill  early  in  November. 
All  through  that  month  and  December  he  had 
been  unable  to  get  out  of  the  house,  and  most  of 
the  time  he  lay  in  his  bag.  Occasionally  he  was 
delirious.  Death  came  the  day  after  New 
Year's.  Paul  paused,  and  for  lack  of  something 
else  to  say  I  asked  him  where  he  had  buried  the 
body. 

"I  have  not  buried  him,  Sir,"  was  the  reply. 
"He  lies  in  there,"  pointing  to  the  dark  end  of 
the  hut. 

"Why  did  you  not  bury  him,  Paul?" 
"Because,  Sir,  I  promised  him  I  wouldn't." 
I  shall  never  forget  that  moment.     At  first 
the  words  did  not  appear  to  me  to  mean  very 


EXTRAORDINARY  TRAGEDY     79 

much — only  that  a  dead  man  had  not  been 
buried.  Gradually  the  full  proportions  of  the 
tragedy  dawned  upon  my  consciousness.  This 
man  with  the  black  face  who  was  cutting  up  wal- 
rus meat  and  feeding  the  fire  had  been  compelled 
to  pass  two  months  of  the  Arctic  night  in  this 
cavern  with  no  other  companion  than  the  body 
of  his  friend.  I  lit  a  little  oil  lamp — a  bicycle 
lamp  it  was — and  made  my  way  into  the  dark 
end  of  the  hut. 

On  the  floor  at  my  feet  lay  a  one-man  sleep- 
ing bag,  empty,  with  a  blanket  tumbled  over 
it  and  showing  signs  of  occupancy  the  night  be- 
fore. Just  beyond  within  arm's  reach  lay  a 
similar  bag.  This  one  was  occupied.  The  flap 
at  the  top  had  been  pulled  carefully  over  the 
face  of  the  sleeper  within.  Bag  and  contents 
were  frozen  as  hard  as  a  rock.  There,  side  by 
side,  the  quick  and  the  dead  had  slept  for  eight 
weeks. 

As  I  looked  at  this  weird  scene  amid  the 
shadows  under  the  scintillating  roof  of  hoar- 
frost, and  thought  of  the  long  days  that  were  as 
nights  and  the  long  nights  that  were  no  darker 
than  the  days,  and  of  the  ordeal  it  is  for  any  one 
of  us  when  compelled  at  home  to  sit  even  for  a 
single  night  with  companions  in  a  brilliantly 
lighted  apartment  by  the  side  of  a  dead  friend, 
and  of  this  living  man  who  had  for  months  lain 


80  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

there  absolutely  alone  by  the  dead,  I  marveled 
that  Paul  Bjoervig  was  still  sane. 

Just  then  the  men  came  in  from  giving  the 
dogs  their  supper,  and  I  heard  Bjoervig  talking 
to  them.  He  had  not  known  what  was  the  mat- 
ter with  Bentzen.  In  his  delirium  the  sick  man 
had  talked  of  his  home  and  his  wife  in  Norway, 
of  the  green  hills  there,  of  Dr.  Nansen  and  Cap- 
tain Sverdrup,  and  the  cruise  of  the  Fram; 
at  times  he  was  once  more  in  the  ward-room  of 
that  famous  ship;  again  he  was  after  bear  or 
walrus  with  Bjoervig  and  the  boys  in  our  little 
Lapp-boat;  now  he  was  on  a  sledge  trip  to  the 
Pole  "with  Mr.  Wellman." 

"That  was  the  hardest  of  all  for  me,"  said 
Bjoervig,  "when  poor  Bentzen  was  out  of  his 
head  and  I  couldn't  do  anything  for  him.  Once 
he  caught  me  crying,  though  I  tried  not  to  let 
him  see,  and  he  brightened  up  and  said:  'Paul, 
what's  the  matter  with  you?  I'm  all  right.  I'll 
be  well  in  a  week  or  two.  See  what  an  appetite 
I  have.'  And  he  got  up  and  boiled  some  coffee 
and  cooked  some  bacon,  and  sat  here  eating  and 
laughing,  just  to  cheer  me  up,  and  then  he  fell 
over  in  a  faint.  I  dragged  him  to  his  bag,  and 
— and  he's  there  yet." 

"And  how  did  you  happen  to  promise  him  not 
to  bury  him?"  . 

"Oh,   he   was   low-spirited   one   day,   and  he 


EXTRAORDINARY  TRAGEDY     81 

called  to  me.  'Say,  Paul,  I'm  not  going  to  die 
up  here,  but  if  I  do,  old  fellow,  promise  me  you 
won't  try  to  bury  me  out  in  the  snow.'  'I'll 
promise  you  that  on  one  condition,  Bernt,'  said 
I,  'and  that  is  that,  in  case  I  die  first,  and  my 
chances  are  just  as  good  as  yours,  you'll  not  bury 
me,  either.'  Bernt  smilingly  agreed,  and  so  we 
made  our  bargain.  He  was  silent  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  he  looked  over  at  me  and  said : 
'Paul,  I  don't  want  the  bears  and  foxes  to  get 


me.' 


"And  what  could  induce  you  to  go  through 
such  an  experience  again,  Paul?"  asked  Olaf. 

"Well,  if  it's  money  you're  talking  about, 
there  isn't  enough  in  the  Bank  of  England.  But 
if  I  had  to  do  it  over  as  a  matter  of  duty,  why, 
I'd  just  do  it,  that's  all." 

My  heart  went  out  to  the  brave  fellow  who 
had  kept  his  promise  through  such  an  unprec- 
edented ordeal.  I  felt  as  if  it  were  my  duty 
to  say  something  to  him,  to 'give  some  expression 
to  the  homage  that  was  deep  in  my  soul.  But 
I  could  not  put  my  thoughts  into  words,  so  I 
took  his  hand  in  mine  there  before  his  comrades, 
and  said  nothing.  And  one  after  another  we  all 
shook  his  hand,  without  speaking,  and  we  felt 
rather  queer,  and  the  silence  was  becoming 
painful,  when  Bjoervig  himself  spoke  up: 

"The  coffee  is  ready,  Sir." 


82  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

After  supper  we  brought  in  our  sleeping-bags 
and  spread  them  on  the  floor,  crawled  in,  and 
were  soon  asleep.  During  the  night  I  chanced 
to  get  awake,  and  looking  out  of  the  cor- 
ner of  the  bag  I  saw  Bjoervig  sitting  by  the  niche 
in  the  wall,  now  and  then  putting  a  piece  of 
blubber  on  the  fire,  smoking  his  little  pipe,  and 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  flames.  He  did  not  sleep 
any  that  night  and  the  next  night  I  gave  him 
morphine. 

Next  day  we  found  a  spot  by  the  side  of  a 
big  rock  where  the  wind  had  scooped  out  a 
pocket.  In  it  we  laid  the  body  of  Bernt  Bent- 
zen.  We  built  a  cairn  of  rocks  over  it,  taking 
care  to  make  the  wall  thick  and  heavy.  As  I 
took  my  place  at  the  head  of  the  grave  to  speak 
a  few  words  of  tribute  to  the  bravery  and  faith- 
fulness of  the  dead  man,  who  had  met  his  fate 
and  was  now  to  find  eternal  rest  in  the  Arctic 
which  he  so  well  loved,  the  men  stood  round  with 
bared  heads  and  two  or  three  of  our  dogs  nestled 
against  the  black  grave  set  in  the  all-white  land- 
scape. 

The  mercury  fell  to  44  below  zero  that 
day,  and  a  strong  wind  was  blowing  from  off 
the  mountain.  The  weather  was  too  bitter  to 
work  out  doors,  and  so  we  kept  in  shelter. 
Missing  Bjoervig  and  feeling  a  little  anxious 
about  him,  I  went  out  to  the  grave  and  found 


EXTRAORDINARY  TRAGEDY     83 

him  there  hard  at  work.  He  had  put  up  a  neat 
cross  and  marked  it  "B.  Bentzen,  Dod  2 — 1,  '99." 
For  hours  he  kept  at  his  self-appointed  task, 
patiently  chinking  up  all  the  little  interstices  be- 
tween the  rocks  which  covered  the  grave.  "Be- 
cause I  want  to  make  sure  the  bears  and  foxes 
don't  get  him,"  he  said. 

Though  only  a  sailorman,  Paul  Bjoervig  has 
a  great  love  for  poetry.  There  are  few  good 
bits  of  verse  in  the  Scandinavian  language  with 
which  he  is  not  familiar.  He  has  an  extraor- 
dinary memory,  too,  and  he  told  us  that  in  his 
long  vigil  through  those  two  dark  and  dreadful 
months  he  had  calmed  and  comforted  himself  by 
reciting  aloud,  over  and  over,  all  the  poetry  he 
could  remember.  He  did  not  admit,  but  never- 
theless we  all  believed,  that  but  for  this  solace 
of  poesy,  this  vent  of  an  overwrought  conscious- 
ness, we  should  have  found  upon  our  arrival  at 
Fort  McKinley  one  dead  man  and  one  mad  one. 


CHAPTER  XI 

FIGHTING   TO    THE   NORTHWARD 

The  17th  of  March  we  set  sail  from  Ft.  Mc- 
Kinley  on  our  sledge  trip  to  the  farther  north, 
taking  Paul  Bjoervig  with  us.  It  was  a  hard 
life.  For  eleven  successive  days  we  had  tempera- 
tures ranging  from  40°  to  48°  below  zero.  The 
winds  were  worse  than  the  cold.  In  such  work 
as  this  one  needs  all  his  vitality,  all  his  endur- 
ance, all  his  physical  and  moral  resistance  if  he  is 
to  keep  going.  Three  days  later  we  were  ap- 
proaching the  82nd  parallel  on  the  eastern 
shores  of  Crown  Prince  Rudolph  Land — a 
large  island  which  had  once  been  visited  by  man. 
Now  the  light  was  increasing,  and  we  hoped  to 
be  able  to  travel  still  more  rapidly,  though  up 
to  this  time  we  had  done  fully  as  well  as  we  had 
expected.  Our  loads  were  getting  lighter  and 
more  easily  handled.  The  dogs  were  better 
trained  and  much  more  serviceable  than  at  the 
beginning  of  the  journey. 

Better  still,  ahead  of  us,  glistening  in  the  sun, 
we  could  plainly  see  the  outlines  of  islands 
hitherto  unexplored  and  unknown.  Eager  in- 


FIGHTING  NORTHWARD         85 

deed  were  we  to  get  to  them,  and  beyond  them 
out  upon  the  great  Arctic  Sea,  to  84°,  87°,  88°, 
and  even  ninety  did  not  seem  wholly  impossible 
in  case  we  were  willing  to  take  some  little  risk 
about  ever  getting  back  again. 

In  view  of  what  has  happened  and  what  I  have 
tried  to  do  since  this  Franz  Josef  Land  effort, 
it  is  rather  curious  to  go  back  to  my  journal  of 
those  days  and  find  what  I  wrote  then.  Wit- 
ness the  following  extract: 

"It  is  only  by  sledging  that  any  one  now  pro- 
poses to  reach  the  North  Pole.  The  old  idea  of 
an  open  polar  sea  and  the  navigation  of  the  very 
top  of  our  earth  in  a  ship  is  abandoned.  After 
Andree's  disastrous  attempt  to  find  a  royal  aero- 
nautic road  to  the  Pole,  no  one  else  is  likely  to 
try  that  method.  The  plan  of  all  modern  Pole- 
seekers  is  to  get  as  far  north  as  possible  with 
a  ship,  establish  headquarters  upon  the  land  and 
then  make  a  dash  for  the  Pole  and  back  again 
with  dog  sledges.  Nansen  varied  this  plan  by 
leaving  his  ship  when  she  had  drifted  farther 
north  than  man  had  ever  been  before,  within 
415  statute  miles  of  the  Pole;  and  if  he  had  had 
a  supply  depot  in  north  Franz  Josef  Land  to 
return  to,  so  that  he  could  prudently  have  re- 
mained longer  in  the  field,  he  might  have  made 
the  ninetieth  degree. 

"To  march  from  an  outpost  in  any  of  those 


86  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

far  northern  lands  to  the  Pole  and  back  is  a  very 
large  order;  but  there  are  men  of  experience  who 
still  think  it  can  be  done.  How  difficult  the 
task  is  only  those  who  have  actually  attempted  it 
can  know.  The  popular  idea  is  that  the  feat 
may  be  performed  if  only  one  will  give  enough 
time  to  it;  that  he  should  push  one  depot  of  sup- 
plies out  beyond  another,  advancing  step  by 
step,  through  a  chain  of  such  stations,  till  the 
Pole  be  reached. 

"This  would  all  be  very  well  if  we  had  the 
land  to  work  upon.  If  we  had  land  running  to 
the  Pole  from  lower  latitudes,  say  the  eightieth 
parallel,  attainment  of  that  objective  of  man's 
adventurous  ambitions  would  be  a  simple  mat- 
ter. But  we  haven't.  So  far  as  we  know,  there 
remains  between  the  most  northerly  land  and  the 
Pole  about  500  miles  of  sea.  It  is  possible  to 
travel  over  the  ice  which  covers  this  sea,  rough 
and  shifting  as  it  is;  but  it  is  useless  to  establish 
depots  there,  for  the  odds  are  a  hundred  to  one 
they  can  never  be  found  again.  Returning  from 
his  attempt  to  reach  the  Pole,  Dr.  Nansen  .made 
no  effort  to  find  the  Fram,  because  she  was 
drifting  to  and  fro,  though  at  no  time  could  she 
have  been  more  than  150  miles  from  him,  and 
the  probabilities  are  that  on  his  southern  journey 
he  passed  within  thirty  or  forty  miles  of  her. 

"The  season  of  the  year  through  which  one 


FIGHTING  NORTHWARD         87 

can  travel  over  the  ice-sheet  is  limited.  The 
winter  months  are  too  dark  and  the  summer 
months — oddly  enough — are  too  warm.  The 
best  season  is  from  about  the  first  of  March  to 
the  end  of  May — say  a  hundred  days  in  all.  Be- 
fore March,  the  sun  is  far  below  the  horizon  and 
the  gloom  too  dense.  After  May  the  snow  is 
too  soft  and  sticky,  and  the  ice  too  much  broken 
up.  It  is  true  that  some  traveling  might  be 
done  in  October  and  early  November,  after  the 
snow  has  hardened  again,  and  this  suggests  the 
plan  of  using  the  100  days  of  spring  for  reach- 
ing the  Pole,  and  the  autumn  for  returning  to 
headquarters. 

"  But  it  must  be  remembered  that,  after  once 
leaving  the  land  and  taking  to  the  sea-ice,  no 
game  can  be  had;  everything  the  travelers  eat, 
and  the  fuel  for  melting  ice  and  cooking  food, 
must  be  carried  with  them.  The  more  they 
carry  the  slower  they  must  travel.  Two  pounds 
a  day  is  the  minimum  ration  per  man,  of  the 
most  approved  modern  "condensed"  food. 
This  means  200  pounds  per  man  for  a  journey 
of  100  days,  to  say  nothing  of  weight  of  sledges, 
instruments,  tent,  fuel,  sleeping-bags,  and  pack- 
ing. With  the  help  of  dogs  this  much  may  be 
carried,  and  the  period  of  absence  from  land  may 
be  extended  to  125  or  even  140  days,  though  at 
first  the  loads  will  be  very  heavy.  If,  however, 


88  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

a  party  sets  out  on  a  journey  of  nine  months' 
duration,  nearly  600  pounds  per  man  would  rep- 
resent the  minimum  load  simply  of  food  for 
men  alone  and  excluding  all  other  things,  among 
them  the  sustenance  of  the  dogs — clearly  an  im- 
possible burden. 

"So  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  a  quick  journey 
out  from  the  land  and  back  again.  It  makes  no 
difference  whether  the  base  used  be  North 
Greenland,  Franz  Josef  Land,  or  a  ship  that  has 
drifted  into  the  inner  polar  sea — it  is  necessarily 
"a  dash  for  the  Pole,"  and  nothing  but  a  dash. 
It  is,  practically,  a  campaign  of  100  or  115  days, 
beginning  in  the  midst  of  the  Arctic  winter  and 
ending  at  the  commencement  of  summer.  The 
man  who  can  get  his  base  established  just  right; 
who  can  so  organize  his  party  and  so  arrange  his 
weights  and  his  motive  power  as  to  be  able  to 
cover  an  average  of  10  miles  a  day,  and  who  can 
manage  to  avert  all  serious  accidents,  has  the 
Pole  within  his  grasp. 

"Ten  miles  a  day,  a  mile  an  hour,  seems  very 
little.  But  try  it  once  if  you  want  to  know  how 
difficult  it  is.  Our  party  was  as  well  organized 
as  any  party  could  be.  We  had  the  best  of 
everything  and  riot  too  much  of  it.  Simplicity 
is  the  first  essential  of  a  successful  sledge  trip. 
Yet  work  as  hard  as  we  could,  we  made  an  aver- 
age of  only  six  miles  a  day,  about  the  same  as 


TOURIST  SHIP  AT  CAMP  WELLMAX  —  MRS.  VAXIMAST  AND  THE 
MISSES  WELI.MAST  ARRIVE. 


FIGHTING  NORTHWARD         89 

Xansen  and  Johansen  had  made.  Of  course  our 
loads  were  heaviest  these  days,  for  we  were  car- 
rying four  months'  supplies. 

"Each  of  the  five  of  us  had  a  sledge  and  a  team 
of  dogs.  Much  of  the  road  was  very  rough. 
The  previous  fall,  before  the  ice  had  frozen 
solidly,  northeast  winds,  driving  down  against 
the  land,  had  smashed  the  floes  into  a  forest  of 
hummocks  and  ridges.  Between  these  eleva- 
tions there  were  pockets  of  deep  snow.  Wind- 
ing in  and  out,  up  and  down,  over  and  through 
these  obstacles,  we  made  our  painful  way  by 
dint  of  much  lifting,  shoving,  pulling,  and  an  in- 
cessant shouting  at  the  poor  dogs." 


CHAPTER  XII 

OUR   GOOD  FRIEND,    THE   DOG 

"Without  dogs  one  can  do  nothing  on  a  sledge 
trip.  Reindeer  have  been  suggested,  but  they 
are  not  equal  to  dogs  in  rough  ice.  Horses  or 
ponies  have  been  tried,  but  with  indifferent  re- 
sults. On  a  smooth  road  they  are,  of  course, 
superior  to  dogs,  but  amid  hummocks  and  pockets 
they  are  of  little  avail.  Besides,  if  we  had  a 
smooth  road,  the  Pole  would  have  been  dis- 
covered long  ago.  One  great  advantage  of  the 
use  of  dogs  is  their  ability  to  endure  anything  in 
the  way  of  cold.  Fifty  below  zero  has  no  ter- 
rors for  them. 

"I  remember  one  camp  we  made.  It  was  in 
February,  shortly  after  our  start,  and  before  the 
sun  had  risen.  A  storm  came  down  upon  us 
from  off  the  glaciers  of  the  near-by  land.  We 
were  upon  a  level,  snowless  stretch  of  ice,  and 
the  wind  fairly  blew  us  off  our  feet.  Only  by 
bracing  to  leeward  with  a  ski-stick,  could  we 
stand  at  all.  The  dogs  were  determined  to  run 

90 


OUR  GOOD  FRIEND,  THE  DOG     91 

with  the  wind,  and  it  was  almost  more  than  we 
could  do  to  keep  them  anywhere  near  the  course. 
Much  of  the  time  we  had  to  drag  the  dogs, 
sledges,  and  all.  with  the  icy  wind  blowing  the 
breath  out  of  our  bodies.  The  storm  increased 
in  fury,  and  as  it  was  absolutely  impossible  to 
camp  on  this  smooth  bare  ice,  we  looked  eagerly 
for  some  hummocks  or  ridges  where  we  might 
make  the  tent-pegs  hold,  or  at  least  bury  them  in 
the  snow  so  that  they  would  not  be  blown  miles 
away  the  moment  we  let  go  of  them. 

"At  last  we  found  some  small  hummocks  and 
stopped  to  make  camp.  Usually  this  is  the  most 
pleasant  of  tasks.  One  takes  keen  delight  in 
preparing  for  the  night,  and  heavenly  it  seems 
to  crawl  in  out  of  the  wind,  and  to  hear  the  lamp 
sing  as  it  boils  the  coffee  and  the  soup.  But 
this  was  a  most  bitter  camp-making.  It  seemed 
impossible  to  do  anything.  The  air  was  so 
filled  with  snow  that  we  could  barely  see  one  an- 
other. 

"  '  Make  the  dogs  snug  first,'  "  I  said,  "  '  or 
they'll  perish.' 

"So  we  scooped  out  a  sort  of  trench,  and 
buried  the  dogs  in  the  snow,  and  then  tried 
to  rig  up  some  sort  of  shelter  for  ourselves.  It 
was  not  easy.  No  tent  could  stand  in  that 
blast,  and  so  we  fastened  down  the  ends  of  the 
canvas,  crawled  under,  boiled  some  coffee,  and 


92  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

spread  the  sleeping-bags.  A  few  hours  later  the 
violence  of  the  storm  was  moderated,  and  I 
looked  out  to  see  how  things  were  coming  on. 

"There  were  the  dogs  lying  on  top  of  the  snow, 
as  happy  as  they  could  Ipe,  though  a  stiff  breeze 
was  still  blowing  and  the  temperature  was  about 
thirty-five  degrees  below  zero.  In  trying  to 
make  these  dogs  comfortable  I  had  frozen  my 
nose  and  my  cheeks,  and  some  of  the  men  had  suf- 
fered similar  trifling  frost  nips.  So  after  this 
we  permitted  the  dogs  to  hunt  their  own  shelter. 
It  was  never  too  cold  for  them.  Some  times  on 
breaking  camp  in  the  morning  we  had  to  dig 
them  out  of  snow-drifts;  but  once  a  dog  has 
shaken  himself  vigorously,  straightened  out  his 
cramped  legs,  quarreled  with  one  or  two  of  his 
neighbors,  and  wagged  his  tail  a  few  times  at 
his  master,  he  is  ready  for  business. 

"A  Siberian  dog  will  pull  only  a  quarter  as 
much  as  a  man  can  pull,  and  he  needs  about  a 
pound  of  food  per  day,  or  half  as  much  as  the 
man.  But  he  requires  no  sleeping-bag  or  tent, 
no  extra  clothing  and  boots,  no  water  has  to  be 
melted  for  him,  he  smokes  no  tobacco.  Best  of 
all,  if  he  gets  hurt,  or  becomes  ill  or  exhausted, 
you  don't  have  to  drag  him  on  a  sledge  or  turn 
back.  You  convert  him  into  fresh  meat  for  the 
survivors.  That  is  the  economy  of  dog-sledging 
in  these  dashes  for  the  Pole. 


OUR  GOOD  FRIEND,  THE  DOG     93 

"Your  four-legged  comrade  drags  fifty  or 
sixty  pounds  of  load,  and  he  carries  twenty-five 
or  thirty  pounds  of  meat  "on  the  hoof."  But 
killing  these  faithful  fellows  who  have  worked 
in  harness  by  your  side,  who  lick  the  hand  that  is 
about  to  smite  them,  and  look  up  into  the  murder- 
er's eyes  with  true  dog  trustfulness,  was  the  bit- 
terest of  all  the  bitter  things  we  had  to  do.  We 
killed  only  a  half  dozen,  using  a  rifle,  and  did  the 
job  off  a  little  way  from  camp,  behind  a  hum- 
mock, in  a  sneaking  sort  of  way,  as  if  we  were 
ashamed  of  it,  as  we  were. 

"Good  boys,  those  dogs.  I  became  very  fond 
of  my  team,  rogues  though  they  were,  some  of 
them.  Dogs  name  themselves,  and  mine  bore 
the  cognomens  of  "The  Deacon,"  "The  Dandy," 
"The  Assassin"  (the  latter  had  killed  only  half 
a  dozen  of  his  brethren  the  previous  winter), 
"The  Lady,"  "The  Fox,"  "The  Judge,"  and 
"The  Sport."  "The  Assassin"  was  the  leader, 
and  a  noble  draft-dog  he  was.  He  pulled  just 
like  a  mule.  His  only  fault  was  that  he  wanted 
to  be  at  the  head  of  the  procession  all  of  the  time. 
If  put  behind  another  sledge,  he  would  not 
"track,"  but  cut  cross-lots  at  every  turn  of  the 
trail.  He  broke  two  sledges  in  this  way  in  the 
rough  ice,  to  say  nothing  of  some  of  my  good 
resolutions.  I  tried  to  discipline  him  by  putting 
him  back  among  the  team ;  but  he  felt  the  dis- 


94  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

grace,  and  wouldn't  pull  at  all,  so  I  had  to  make 
him  leader  again. 

"With  all  their  mean  tricks,  I  loved  these  dogs. 
You  see,  I  had  to  work  right  alongside  them, 
with  a  harness  over  my  shoulders.  On  good  ice 
the  dogs  would  pull  the  load,  but  whenever  the 
sledge  stuck  in  a  rough  place  or  pocket  of  deep 
snow — and  this  was  once  in  three  or  five 
minutes — I  had  to  keep  it  going,  or  start  it  if  it 
stopped.  The  dogs  would  pull  only  when  they 
felt  motion  behind  them.  They  had  a  sly  way, 
too,  of  watching  me  out  of  the  corners  of  their 
eyes,  and  when  the  sledge  dragged  a  little  hard 
and  they  saw  I  was  not  pulling,  they  stopped 
short,  as  much  as  to  say : 

"  How  do  you  expect  to  get  along  if  you  don't 
do  your  share  of  the  pulling?' 

"But  I  fooled  them  by  pretending  to  work  very 
hard  when  actually  I  was  not  moving  ten  pounds. 
At  every  step  they  got  even  with  me  by  twisting 
themselves  up  into  knots,  tangling  their  trace 
lines  in  the  most  hopeless  way,  and  then  lying 
down  to  rest  while  I,  with  frost-nipped  fingers 
and  such  patience  as  I  could  command,  straight- 
ened things  out. 

"But  there  were  compensations  for  all  these 
annoyances  in  the  fine  way  the  beasts  worked. 
It  was  not  necessary  to  beat  them,  and  whipping 
or  beating  was  not  allowed  on  this  trip.  It  was 


OUR  GOOD  FRIEND,  THE  DOG     95 

wonderful  what  we  could  do  with  these  dogs  by 
talking  cheerily  to  them.  They  didn't  know 
what  we  said  to  them,  but  they  were  as  keen  to 
scent  the  tone  in  which  we  said  it,  as  they  were 
to  smell  a  bear  or  a  seal.  When  we  were  blue 
and  talked  snappishly  or  petulantly  to  them, 
they  became  discouraged,  too,  and  didn't  work 
half  so  well.  Brace  up  and  sing  to  them,  and 
call  them  "old  boy,"  and  put  a  jolly  ring  in  your 
voice,  and  they  would  pull  their  legs  off  for  you. 
"All  but  'The  Fox,' — he  was  a  born  shirker. 
He  used  to  go  lame  all  of  a  sudden,  so  that  he 
couldn't  pull;  and  at  first  I  sympathized  a  good 
deal  with  him  and  called  him  pet  names.  Then 
I  discovered  that  he  was  shamming  and  that  a 
genteel  touch  with  the  end  of  my  ski-stick  served 
to  cure  his  lameness  in  a  jiffy.  But  the  habit  of 
going  lame  when  he  became  tired  he  never  got 
over,  and  for  months  he  tried  two  or  three  times 
a  day  to  deceive  us,  always  with  the  same  re- 
sult."' 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  JOYS  OF  POLAR  SLEDGING 

Polar  sledging  is  anything  but  a  joy  ride. 
The  cold  is  not  the  worst  part  of  it,  that  is,  di- 
rectly: so  far  as  actually  feeling  the  cold  was 
concerned,  WTC  had  no  trouble,  and  a  few  frost- 
bites didn't  count.  Hardest  to  endure  was  the 
indirect  effect  of  the  cold,  coupled  with  the  ab- 
sence of  a  fire  to  dry  things.  The  camping  hour 
arrives.  You  have  been  working  hard  all  day, 
pulling  and  tugging  in  a  temperature  ranging 
from  twenty-five  to  forty-five  degrees  below 
zero,  and  perhaps  with  a  nice  cool  wind  blowing 
from  the  north.  Outside  you  are  a  mass  of  frost, 
and  inside  your  skin  is  wet  with  perspiration. 

Be  careful  in  pitching  the  tent  that  you  do  not 
leave  your  mittens  off  more  than  a  few  seconds, 
or  you  will  not  only  freeze  your  fingers,  but  find 
the  mittens  frozen  so  hard  you  cannot  get  them 
on  again.  The  best  way  is  to  put  them  inside 
your  jacket  till  you  want  them.  When  the  tent 
is  pitched,  one  man  goes  to  cut  fresh  ice — ice  that 
is  at  the  top  of  the  hummocks,  fifteen  or  eighteen 
feet  above  the  sea — and  break  it  up  fine  for  melt- 


JOYS  OF  POLAR  SLEDGING      97 

ing  over  the  petroleum-gas  lamp.  This  is  the 
only  way  to  get  water,  and  it  is  not  an  easy  way, 
for  the  ice  is  almost  as  hard  as  a  rock. 

Another  man  feeds  the  hungry  dogs  their 
meager  ration  of  frozen  meat.  Poor  beasts,  it 
is  a  small  bit  and  swallowed  at  a  single  gulp,  and 
then  nothing  more  than  snow  for  them  to  eat  till 
the  next  night.  It  makes  one  very  sad  to  see  the 
hungry  fellows  sitting  about  watching  with  wide 
eyes  their  busy  masters,  and  wagging  their  tails 
in  expectancy  of  a  crumb  or  two.  But  it  is  a 
hard  life  for  both  man  and  beast,  and  rations 
must  be  strictly  adhered  to,  no  matter  how  many 
good  dogs  go  to  sleep  in  the  snow  with  empty 
stomachs.  They'll  jump  into  their  work  all 
right  in  the  morning  just  the  same. 

Two  men  get  the  big  sleeping-bag  off  the 
sledge  and  carry  it  into  the  tent.  There  they 
try  to  unroll  it.  Half  an  hour  of  tugging,  yank- 
ing, pounding  is  needed  to  accomplish  this  feat, 
so  fast  is  it  frozen  from  the  moisture  of  the 
previous  night's  use.  When  it  is  spread  flat  in 
the  snow  we  begin  getting  in.  Preliminary  to 
this  we  beat  and  scrape  some  of  the  frost  from 
one  another's  clothing,  but  it  is  impossible  to  get 
it  all  off.  The  remainder  goes  into  the  bag  with 
us.  We  don't  take  off  any  clothing,  not  even 
our  moccasins  or  our  hats.  Yes,  we  do  take  off 
our  reindeer-skin  shoes,  but  it  is  only  for  the  pur- 


98  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

pose  of  turning  them  inside  out  that  they  may 
the  better  dry  during  the  night,  and  that  we  may 
take  out  the  senne  grass  or  hay  which  we  have 
worn  in  them  to  absorb  the  moisture  and  keep 
the  feet  dry. 

The  art  of  keeping  warm  feet  is  to  keep  dry 
feet,  and  three  or  four  pairs  of  woolen  stockings 
and  a  nicely  packed  bunch  of  this  hay  work  to  a 
charm.  Whatever  else  we  got  in  this  excursion, 
we  did  not  get  cold  feet.  Scattered  out  to  freeze, 
the  hay  can  be  shaken  entirely  free  of  frost  next 
morning,  and  so  will  be  fairly  dry  to  put  on 
again.  But  what  a  job  it  is  to  turn  these  frozen 
moccasins  night  and  morning  with  our  frost- 
nipped,  tender  fingers!  More  than  once  have  I 
seen  a  big,  brave  fellow  shedding  tears  and 
swearing  together  while  at  this  job — it  hurt  so. 

We  start  kicking  our  way  into  the  sleeping- 
bag.  It  is  frosty,  icy,  hard  in  there,  and  it  takes 
a  lot  of  kicking  and  shoving  to  straighten  it  out 
and  work  our  way  well  down  in.  By  the  time 
this  is  done,  supper  is  ready,  and  this  brings  in  the 
only  glorious  hour  of  the  day.  Hot  soup,  hot 
coffee,  biscuits;  a  piece  of  cheese;  bacon,  some- 
times, raw,  sometimes  boiled  in  the  soup;  oat- 
meal porridge;  a  nice  chunk  of  butter,  hard  as  a 
rock,  but  it  tastes  good  in  the  coffee;  and  a  big 
drink  of  ice  water  when  we  are  lucky  enough  to 
have  any  water  left  over.  If  there  isn't  any 


JOYS  OF  POLAR  SLEDGIXG      99 


left  over,  we  go  thirsty,  as  we  can't  afford  to 
more  oil. 

We  sit  up  in  the  bag  like  birdlings  in  a  nest, 
and  eat  this  supper  with  voracious  appetites,  and 
with  mittens  on  our  fingers.  The  steam  is  con- 
verted into  frost  and  the  white  particles  fall  all 
over  us ;  but  we  don't  mind  that  as  long  as  there 
is  anything  to  eat.  The  saddest  moment  is  when 
everything  is  gone  and  the  ration  exhausted. 

Then  a  pipe  for  consolation — a  pipe  and  the 
pleasant  task  of  writing  up  one's  journal  in  a 
temperature  of  seventy  degrees  or  more  below 
freezing.  There  was  once  a  time  when  I  didn't 
believe  it  possible  for  a  man  to  write  two  or  three 
hundred  words  in  half  an  hour  in  such  cold,  with 
bare  hands ;  but  now  I  know  it  can  be  done,  and, 
what  is  more  surprising,  the  man  can  actually 
read  what  he  has  written. 

The  next  thing  is  to  push  one's  self  all  the  way 
down  into  the  now  fairly-well  thawed-out  sleep- 
ing-bag, pull  up  the  flap  and  button  it  tight,  and 
get  snuggled  for  the  night.  All  this  is  easier 
said  than  done.  The  predominant  idea  of  com- 
fort in  a  sleeping-bag  prevailing  among  my 
Norwegian  comrades  was  to  slide  down  some- 
where near  the  bottom  and  telescope  themselves 
together;  but  I  had  always  to  have  a  smell  of 
fresh  air,  no  matter  how  cold  it  was. 

There  were  four  of  us  in  one  bag,  and  none 


100  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

of  us  was  small,  and  we  had  to  lie  "spoon- 
fashion."  When  one  turned  over  all  had  to 
turn.  As  we  were  packed  in  like  Smyrna  figs 
in  a  box,  and  as  I  occupied  one  edge  of  the  bag, 
where  the  coverlid  was  drawn  down  over  me  as 
tight  as  a  drumhead,  it  sometimes  took  me  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  to  turn  over.  It  was  quite 
an  athletic  feat,  but  it  had  its  advantage  in  that 
it  helped  one  to  warm  up.  The  effort  to  turn 
about-face  usually  started  perspiration,  though 
the  jacket  I  wore  was  so  stiff  with  frost  that  on 
first  getting  into  bed  it  was  difficult  to  bend  the 
arms.  We  always  wore  our  mittens  in  bed,  at 
least  during  the  first  part  of  the  night,  when  we 
were  struggling  to  get  our  blankets  straightened 
out.  These  were  like  pieces  of  sheet  metal  to 
start  with;  but  the  heat  of  our  bodies  and  the 
persistent  bending  and  breaking  of  them  finally 
licked  them  into  shape. 

Surprising,  the  power  of  this  body  heat  of  a 
vigorous  man!  In  the  course  of  a  couple  of 
hours  it  thawed  most  of  our  clothing  into  wet 
compresses,  made  the  blankets  limp  and  soggy, 
and  even  softened  parts  of  the  sleeping-bag  it- 
self. Something  like  a  hundred  minutes  after 
buttoning  the  flaps  down  over  our  heads  we 
found  ourselves  lying  with  pools  of  water  under 
our  bodies,  while  frost  still  adhered  to  our 
trousers.  By  this  time  two  or  three  of  my 


JOYS  OF  POLAR  SLEDGING     101 

Norwegian  bed-fellows  were  snoring  like  thresh- 
ing-machines, trolley-cars,  boiler-shops  and  bat- 
teries of  artillery.  Then,  generally  without 
much  loss  of  time,  I  suppose  I  joined  in  the 
chorus. 

All  these  and  countless  other  annoyances  are 
small  matters  when  once  you  get  accustomed  to 
them,  and  as  long  as  one  is  in  full  possession  of 
his  health  and  strength.  But  I  cannot  con- 
scientiously recommend  an  Arctic  tent  as  a  hospi- 
tal, nor  a  dog  sledge  in  rough  ice  and  bad 
weather  as  an  ambulance. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

CAUGHT   IN   AN    ICE-QUAKE 

March  20th  is  the  day  all  Arctic  travelers  im- 
patiently await.  It  is  the  day  the  sun  reaches 
the  North  Pole,  not  to  go  away  again  for  six 
months.  Up  near  the  Pole  this  day  marks  the 
end  of  the  dark  period ;  though  the  sun  continues 
to  set  for  a  few  hours  at  midnight — gradually 
lessening  the  diurnal  duration  of  his  disappear- 
ance till  he  remains  above  the  horizon  night  as 
well  as  day — a  fast-diminishing  twilight  is  the 
only  semblance  of  darkness  we  have  above  the 
80th  parallel  after  March  20th.  As  I  have  said, 
we  were  going  along  very  well  to  the  north- 
ward, and  I  had  begun  to  feel  quite  proud  of  the 
progress  I  could  make  with  my  sledge  and  dog 
team. 

But  pride  goeth  before  a  fall.  On  this  very 
morning  which  marked  the  end  of  the  Arctic 
night  and  the  dawn  of  the  brighter  day,  a  little 
accident  happened.  It  was  a  trivial  thing  in 
itself,  tremendous  in  its  consequences.  My 
sledge,  carrying  500  pounds  of  weight,  had  stuck 
in  a  rough  place.  As  usual,  I  called  to  the  dogs 

102 


IN  AN  ICE-QUAKE  103 

I 

and  threw  my  weight  into  the  harness  A  lunge 
forward,  and  down  into  a  little  crack  in  the  ice — 
a  tiny  little  crack  such  as  we  had  crossed  every 
day  by  the  scores — went  my  right  leg.  The  mo- 
mentum threw  me  forward  upon  my  face,  and 
my  shin  bone  received  the  full  force  of  the  thrust. 
At  first  I  thought  the  leg  was  broken  in  two 
or  three  places,  so  great  was  the  pain.  For  a 
few  moments  I  felt  faint.  But  when  I  had 
picked  myself  up  and  found  that  I  had  nothing 
worse  than  a  bruise  and  sprain,  I  counted  my- 
self very  lucky,  and  went  on  my  way  as  con- 
tented as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

Next  morning  of  course  I  was  sore  and  lame, 
and  the  prudent  thing  would  have  been  to  stop 
for  a  week  or  ten  days  and  get  all  right  again. 
But  I  kept  going,  the  leg  getting  worse  and 
worse,  and  I  suppose  I  should  have  been  rash 
enough  to  go  so  far  that  I  never  could  have  got- 
ten back  had  not  something  else  happened. 
Fortunately,  this  other  thing  did  happen,  and  it 
came  down  upon  us  like  a  thief  in  the  night,  in 
the  shape  of  an  ice-pressure  which  acted  just  like 
an  earthquake  under  our  camp  and  destroyed 
sledges,  dogs,  stores  and  instruments  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  came  within  an  ell  of 
getting  all  of  us. 

It  was  a  strange  disaster  which  overtook  us. 
We  had  covered  about  140  of  the  700  statute 


104  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

miles  which  lay  between  our  winter  headquarters 
and  the  Pole,  and  felt  confident  of  our  ability 
to  cover  a  good  deal  of  the  remaining  distance 
before  turning  back — for  at  this  time  there  was 
no  realization  of  the  fact  that  the  injury  to  my 
leg  was  so  severe.  Retreat  at  once  was  impera- 
tive if  my  life  was  to  be  saved.  We  had  no 
thought  of  retreating ;  the  leg  would  be  better  to- 
morrow or  the  day  after;  and  if  the  fates  had  not 
interposed,  it  is  certain  we  should  have  gone  on 
and  on  to  the  north — so  far  that  at  least  one  of 
us  could  never  have  returned.  But  the  fates  did 
intervene  with  what  at  the  moment  seemed  a 
most  cruel  hand  to  save  us  from  worse  things 
beyond.  March  22nd  was  a  day  of  storm  from 
the  northeast,  and  we  could  not  make  the  dogs 
face  the  blast.  By  evening  the  wind  had  died 
away,  but  as  the  nights  were  still  pretty  dark, 
we  crept  into  our  sleeping-bags  at  six  o'clock, 
with  orders  for  breakfast  at  three  in  the  morn- 
ing and  an  early  start.  At  midnight  we  were 
aroused  by  the  ominous  sound  of  ice  crushing 
against  ice,  accompanied  by  a  slight  jarring  of 
the  frozen  crust  which  lay  between  us  and  the 
sea.  In  an  instant  all  five  of  us  were  outside 
the  tent.  We  could  see  nothing.  The  storm 
had  blown  up  again,  and  the  air  was  filled  with 
drifting  snow.  Two  men  were  detailed  to  make 
a  reconnaissance,  the  others  creeping  back  into 


TliE    STEEL    CAll   OF    THE    AlRSHIP    AMERICA 1907. 


IN  AX  ICE-QUAKE  105 

the  tent  out  of  the  blast.  But  in  two  or  three 
seconds  there  came  another  movement  of  the 
ice;  another  low,  sullen,  rumbling  sound. 

A  crack  had  opened  directly  under  our  sleep- 
ing-bags, and  in  its  black  depths  we  could  hear 
the  waters  rushing  and  seething.  Running  out 
of  the  tent  into  the  darkness,  one  of  us  stepped 
into  an  opening,  wetting  his  foot,  and  no  sooner 
had  he  withdrawn  his  leg  than  the  crack  closed 
like  a  vice,  and  with  such  force  that  the  edges 
of  the  blocks  were  ground  to  fragments  and  the 
debris  was  pushed  up  into  a  quivering  ridge. 
Ten  feet  away  lay  a  dog  with  his  head  cut  clean 
off  by  a  similar  opening  and  closing  of  the  ice 
upon  which  he  had  been  sleeping.  How  the 
animal  had  managed  to  get  caught  in  the  trap 
we  could  not  imagine;  but  there  he  was,  as 
neatly  beheaded  as  if  an  executioner  had  done  the 
job. 

The  remaining  dogs  were  howling  dolefully. 
Some  of  our  sledges,  with  their  precious  stores, 
were  already  toppling  into  the  waters  where  the 
ice  had  upheaved  underneath  them.  Under 
our  feet  and  all  around  us  the  ice  was  shaking 
and  breaking — here  pushing  up,  there  sinking 
down — and  the  violently  agitated  sea  was  spout- 
ing through  the  openings.  We  were  caught  in 
an  ice-quake. 

For  a  few  moments,  oddly  enough,  we  did  not 


106  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

fully  realize  our  danger.  To  none  of  us  was  an 
ice  pressure  a  new  thing,  and  familiarity  had 
doubtless  bred  in  us,  if  not  contempt  for  the  ice- 
king,  certainly  a  somewhat  superfluous  confidence 
in  ourselves.  But  when,  a  few  moments  later, 
the  very  pieces  of  ice  upon  which  we  stood  reared 
up  and  assumed  angles  of  from  thirty-five  to 
forty-five  degrees;  when  our  entire  camp  started 
revolving  as  if  it  were  in  a  maelstrom;  when  we 
saw  our  tent,  sleeping-bags,  and  cooking-kit 
threatened  by  a  rushing  mass  of  sludge  and 
water,  we  knew  that  whatever  was  to  be  done 
must  be  done  right  quickly. 

There  was  no  panic.  There  was  not  the 
slightest  sign  that  any  one  of  us  was  even  ex- 
cited. We  cut  the  harness  of  such  dogs  as  we 
could  get  at,  that  they  might  save  themselves. 
In  the  very  nick  of  time  three  of  us  sprang  out 
upon  the  floe  which  held  the  tent,  tilted  though 
as  it  was  with  one  edge  down  in  the  boiling  sea 
and  the  other  up  in  the  air,  and  after  a  sharp 
struggle,  we  succeeded  in  rescuing  the  precious 
sleeping-bags,  the  cooking-outfit,  and  the  tent 
itself. 

Obviously  it  was  imperative  that  we  run  away 
from  this  convulsed  spot  as  quickly  as  possible. 
But  whither  should  we  go?  In  the  darkness  and 
storm  it  was  impossible  to  see  anything  around 
us  but  the  shaking,  quaking  ice-blocks.  I  asked 


IN  AN  ICE-QUAKE  107 

Paul  and  Emil  to  go  hunt  a  sound  floe,  if  such 
a  thing  remained  in  the  Arctic  Seas,  upon  which 
we  could  take  refuge.  They  instantly  set  out, 
scrambling  over  the  rolling,  shaking  slabs,  and 
as  they  disappeared  in  the  gloom  I  said  to  my- 
self: "Well,  that's  the  last  I  shall  ever  see  of 
those  boys."  Yet  I  was  not  much  concerned 
about  it.  For  some  reason,  which  I  never  expect 
to  understand,  I  was  unable  to  get  up  more  than 
an  indifferent  sort  of  interest  in  what  was  going 
on.  The  most  acute  sensation  I  had  was  in  a 
thought  of  how  much  more  pleasant  it  would  be 
back  in  the  snug  bag,  and  whether  it  was  really 
worth  while  to  stay  out  in  this  bitter  wind  trying 
to  save  things. 

In  a  few  moments  Paul  and  Emil  returned 
with  word  that  twenty  or  thirty  rods  away  they 
had  found  a  floe  which  appeared  to  be  sound  and 
safe.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  we  all  began  to 
feel  that  there  was  something  worth  hurrying 
for.  Laying  hold  of  a  sledge,  we  hastened  with 
it  over  the  quaking  pieces  and  across  a  chasm  in 
which  the  water  was  running  like  a  mill-race,  to 
a  place  of  'safety  upon  the  large  floe  beyond. 
Three  trips  there  and  back  we  made,  each  time 
finding  the  chasm  considerably  wider  than  be- 
fore. 

It  was  all  we  could  do  to  get  the  third  sledge 
over,  and  when  we  attempted  to  return  for  the 


108  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

fourth  there  was  before  us  a  river — a  mad-rush- 
ing, ice-strewn  current.  The  spot  where  our 
camp  had  stood,  and  where  but  a  few  moments 
before  we  had  all  been  at  the  work  of  rescue,  was 
in  a  volcanic  state  of  eruption.  Masses  of  ice 
were  gushing  up  into  the  air  like  flames.  The 
brittle  blocks  were  crushing,  grinding,  snarling, 
biting  at  one  another.  The  sea  was  rushing 
wildly  through  and  over  the  debris.  From  within 
this  swirling  maelstrom  of  ice  and  water  came 
the  doleful  howling  of  a  number  of  dogs,  whose 
fastenings  we  had  been  unable  to  cut. 

We  stood  at  the  margin  of  the  upheaval  and 
listened.  The  volume  of  cry  from  the  dogs  be- 
came fainter  and  fainter.  Soon  it  dwindled  to 
the  moan  of  a  single  dog.  A  second  more  and 
there  was  no  sound  to  be  heard  save  the  cracking, 
crunching  of  the  ice,  the  swishing,  hissing  of  the 
waters.  As  I  stood  there  in  the  storm  by  the 
wreck  of  a  great  hope  I  noticed  how  strangely 
like  the  roar  of  a  fierce  conflagration  were  the 
mutterings  of  this  Polar  paroxysm. 

Without  a  word  we  turned  back  to  our  res- 
cued sledges,  moved  them  farther  on,  and,  as 
soon  as  we  felt  quite  secure,  stopped  and  put  up 
the  tent  to  escape  the  force  of  the  wind.  While 
cook  was  preparing  coffee  and  oatmeal  we  made 
an  inventory  of  our  losses.  One-third  of  our 
dogs  and  all  of  our  dog  food  were  missing;  also 


IN  AN  ICE-QUAKE  109 

300  or  400  pounds  of  bacon  and  condensed  food ; 
bags  of  reserve  clothing  and  footwear;  all  our 
ski  and  our  canvas  canoe;  and  worst  of  all,  our 
basket  of  instruments.  The  Polar  dash  was  at 
an  end.  It  would  be  nothing  but  suicide  to  go 
on. 

When  the  light  returned  and  the  storm  had 
abated,  we  walked  back  to  the  place  where  our 
camp  had  been.  A  strange  scene  lay  before  us. 
Where  our  tent  had  been  pitched  there  were  now 
masses  of  pressed-up  ice,  rising  in  places  thirty 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  solid 
crystal  sheet,  from  eight  to  fifteen  feet  in  thick- 
ness, had  been  shattered  into  a  million  fragments, 
turned  bottom  up,  block  packed  on  block,  and  in 
between  the  elevation  were  pockets  of  debris — 
the  powdered  pulverized  detritus  produced  by 
these  Titanic  forces. 

Now  all  was  still  and  calm,  and  where  the  sea 
had  rushed  up  and  formed  little  pools  in  the 
sludge,  new  ice  was  forming  in  the  thirty-de- 
grees-below-zero temperature,  and  all  was  shin- 
ing brilliantly  in  the  morning  sun.  Not  a  trace 
of  sledge,  or  dog,  or  canoe,  or  ski,  or  any- 
thing whatsoever  that  had  been  ours,  was  to  be 
seen  in  the  wreck.  Had  the  strongest  ship  that 
was  ever  built  been  caught  in  this  convulsion, 
it  would  been  ground  into  kindling  wood  and  the 
kindling  wood  into  powder. 


110  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Now  we  could  plainly  see  the  cause  of  the  dis- 
aster, hitherto  inexplicable.  We  had  pitched 
our  camp  about  half  a  mile  from  an  enormous 
iceberg,  fragment  of  a  glacier,  that  had  drifted 
here  perhaps  years  before  and  grounded.  It 
was  about  as  big  as  a  modern  New  York  or 
Chicago  "sky-scraper,"  rising  forty  feet  above 
the  surface  of  the  water  with  its  feet  upon  the 
earth  perhaps  150  feet  below.  There  it  stood, 
like  a  mountain,  now  only  a  hundred  yards  away. 
The  storm  that  blew  up  while  we  slept  had 
started  the  whole  field  of  ice  in  motion.  It  had 
driven  the  ice  down  upon  the  great  berg  just  as 
the  sawyer  moves  his  board  against  the  saw,  or 
as  you  may  push  a  piece  of  cardboard  against  a 
fixed  knife.  And  our  camp  had  been  in  the  line 
of  the  cut! 

It  was  all  plain  enough.  The  mountainous 
berg  had  sawed  the  ice-sheet,  and  into  the  chan- 
nel thus  formed — here,  as  elsewhere,  nature  will 
have  no  vacuum — the  pressure  of  billions  of  tons, 
coming  from  rear,  right,  left,  had  jammed, 
rolled,  revolved,  uplifted,  down-thrust,  crunched, 
crushed,  powdered  the  fragments  of  floes  into  a 
death  struggle  for  mere  place  to  exist. 

All  along  that  coast,  as  far  as  we  could  see 
this  bright  morning,  the  one  spot — the  one  lit- 
tle rood  out  of  all  these  millions  of  acres — where 
our  camp  could  have  been  pitched  only  to  be  de- 


IN  AN  ICE-QUAKE  111 

stroyed  was  the  very  spot  where  it  had  been 
pitched.  All  other  spots  for  miles  and  miles 
were  just  as  they  had  been.  Start  an  ant  crawl- 
ing across  a  newspaper.  Take  a  pair  of  shears, 
shut  your  eyes,  make  one  random  clip,  and  cut 
the  insect  in  two.  We  were  the  ant  creeping 
across  the  surface  of  this  great  ice-sheet,  and 
that  is  what  chance  did  for  us — the  one  out  of 
millions  that  saved  at  least  one  human  life. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    BITTER    RETREAT 

For  a  man  with  red  blood  in  his  veins  it  is 
easy  to  fight,  to  work,  to  suffer,  to  endure.  The 
hardest  thing  in  the  world  to  do  is  to  surrender. 
But  in  this  case  there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done. 
The  bitterest  hours  of  my  life  were  these  which 
immediately  followed  realization  of  the  fact  that 
our  journey  was  at  an  end.  It  was  a  crushing 
disappointment.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  that 
I  wept — trying  to  conceal  my  woe  from  my  com- 
rades. But  there  is  not  much  privacy  in  a  sleep- 
ing-bag occupied  by  four  men. 

Next  morning  we  started  back  to  Cape  Tege- 
thoff  with  our  now  sadly  broken-up  outfit,  thank- 
ful to  be  alive  after  the  frightful  night  we  had 
passed,  thankful  to  have  a  sleeping-bag  to  crawl 
into  when  the  day's  march  was  over.  What 
would  have  become  of  us  if  we  had  lost  our  bags 
in  the  ice-quake,  as  we  came  so  near  doing,  the 
good  Lord  only  knows.  Men  cannot  live  without 
sleep ;  to  try  to  sleep  in  that  temperature  without 
a  bag  for  shelter  is  to  slumber  without  waking; 

112 


THE  BITTER  RETREAT         113 

and  we  were  ten  days  or  a  fortnight  from  our 
camp. 

They  were  pretty  hard  days,  that  march  in  re- 
treat. The  cold  was  bitter — 45  to  50  below  most 
of  the  time.  The  Norwegians  managed  the 
sledges  and  dogs,  and  I  attempted  to  go  ahead 
and  pick  the  road  in  the  rough  ice,  and  it  was 
nearly  all  rough.  Sometimes  I  got  far  ahead 
of  the  sledges,  and  was  trudging  on  alone  in 
the  flying,  drifting  snow,  little  caring  what  hap- 
pened to  me.  More  than  once  my  men  warned 
me  I  might  at  any  moment  meet  a  bear,  and 
as  I  carried  no  weapon  of  any  sort,  such  a  meet- 
ing as  that  could  have  but  one  ending.  To 
please  them  I  tried  to  stay  nearer  the  little  car- 
avan. 

One  stormy  day  we  stopped  and  put  up  the 
tent  for  midday  luncheon  in  order  that  we  might 
have  some  shelter  from  the  cruel  wind.  As  we 
stood  in  the  tent  waiting  for  the  coffee  to  boil, 
I  chanced  to  see  a  big  bear  about  twenty  yards 
from  us,  and  coming  straight  toward  us.  I 
called  to  Daniel  Johansen,  who  was  at  the  tent 
door,  to  get  a  gun,  and  be  quick  about  it.  Our 
rifles  were  packed  in  the  sledge-loads,  a  little  dis- 
tance away.  Would  Daniel  be  able  to  get  his 
gun  before  the  beast  plunged  in  upon  us?  It 
was  pretty  doubtful.  Now  bruin  has  the  scent 
good  and  strong;  now  he  is  leaping  for  us;  now 


114  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

—a  crack  of  Daniel's  rifle,  and  the  bear  falls 
over  almost  at  the  door  of  the  tent. 

It  is  nice  to  have  fresh  meat  walk  right  into 
your  kitchen  that  way.  And  we  proceeded  to 
make  good  use  of  that  which  the  gods  had  sent 
us.  There  was  no  more  sledge-travel  that  day. 
We  flensed  the  bear,  filled  the  pot  full,  gave  the 
hungry  dogs  all  they  could  eat,  and  lay  in  our 
bags  all  afternoon  and  night,  every  one  of  us 
consuming  amazing  quantities  of  steak,  liver  and 
heart.  I  really  believe  the  bear's  heart  and  liver 
are  the  finest  delicacies  this  world  produces. 

As  the  days  wore  on  and  we  worked  our  way 
southward,  my  injured  leg  got  worse  and  worse. 
It  was  filled  with  inflammatory  product  from 
toes  to  trunk,  and  was  swollen  much  beyond  its 
natural  size.  Two  or  three  times  I  fainted  and 
fell  down  in  the  snow,  going  on  again  after  the 
men  had  picked  me  up  and  set  me  on  my  pins. 
They  urged  me  to  give  up  walking  and  ride  on 
the  sledge.  But  I  was  too  proud  for  that. 
Thinking  something  might  be  done  in  the  way 
of  treatment,  I  got  out  the  "Hints  to  Travelers," 
looked  over  the  medical  pages,  and  finally  found 
what  one  should  do  in  case  of  bruise  to  a  leg: 

"The  patient  should  lie  perfectly  quiet.  The 
injured  member  should  be  constantly  bathed  in 
liot  water  and  be  permitted  to  rest  upon  soft  pil- 
lows." 


THE  BITTER  RETREAT         115 

Somehow  the  contrast  between  these  gentle 
things  and  the  icy  actuality  I  faced  angered  me ; 
and  with  an  exclamation,  "Hot  baths  and  soft 
pillows  be  blowed!"  I  threw  the  book  as  far  as 
I  could  out  in  the  snow. 

My  comrades  rescued  it.  They  also  took  me 
bodily  the  next  morning  and  placed  me  in  a 
sleeping-bag  on  one  of  the  sledges,  and  calmly 
informed  me  that  if  I  dared  to  climb  out  they 
would  put  me  back  again.  A  nice  bit  of  mutiny ! 
But  I  had  just  sense  enough  to  realize  it  was  no 
longer  a  case  for  pride,  but  one  of  getting  out 
alive,  if  I  could.  And  if  it  had  not  been  for  my 
comrades,  I  shouldn't. 

Pretty  soon  we  arrived  at  Fort  McKinley  and 
spent  a  night  there.  I  believe  this  was  the  cold- 
est night  I  ever  saw.  You  would  think  it  might 
be  warm  in  the  hut.  But  it  seemed  colder  there 
than  in  the  tent.  By  this  time  the  circulation 
in  my  hurt  leg  must  have  been  virtually  stopped 
by  suffusion  of  inflammatory  matter.  I  felt  the 
leg  freezing,  and  told  my  comrades  about  it. 
They  cut  open  my  trousers  and  underwear,  and 
with  their  rough,  frost-nipped  hands — we  were 
all  much  frost-bitten — they  rubbed  me  hour  after 
hour  till  a  semblance  of  blood  circulation  was 
restored.  That  was  a  close  call  to  having  a  leg 
frozen — and  whatever  that  was  sure  to  mean. 

Finally  we  reached  our  winter  hut — I  riding 


116  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

on  a  sledge — and  found  our  three  Americans 
there  all  well.  Dr.  Hofma  did  all  he  could  for 
me ;  but  there  was  not  much  that  could  be  done. 
My  leg  was  a  sight;  my  nervous  system  was  a 
wreck  under  the  physical  strain,  the  low,  constant 
fever  which  the  inflammation  produced.  Nearly 
four  months  I  lay  flat  on  my  back  on  the  floor 
of  the  hut,  tormented  with  the  most  agonizing 
itching,  weak,  feverish,  despondent,  sleepless.  I 
had  never  been  and  am  not  a  teetotaller.  Yet 
throughout  this  long  ordeal  it  was  a  matter  of 
pride  with  me  not  to  drink.  Bottles  and  demi- 
johns of  liquor  were  writhin  reach  of  my  right 
hand — and  in  the  15  weeks  of  imprisonment  I 
took  about  four  swallows! 

After  a  short  rest  in  Harmsworth  House,  our 
Norwegians  took  the  field  again,  along  with  Mr. 
Baldwin,  the  meteorologist.  I  had  planned  to 
lead  this  party,  but  of  course  was  unable  to  go. 
Up  to  this  time  the  eastward  extent  of  the  Franz 
Josef  Land  archipelago  was  unknown  and  was 
a  moot  question  among  geographers.  Our  party 
delimited  the  archipelago  to  the  northeast,  dis- 
covering many  new  islands.  One  of  them  of  con- 
siderable area,  beyond  Wilscek  Land,  I  named 
after  Alexander  Graham  Bell,  then  president  of 
the  National  Geographic  Society.  Other  is- 
lands, capes  and  straits  I  named  in  honor  of 
friends  who  had  helped  me  finance  the  expedi- 


THE  BITTER  RETREAT         117 

tion.  Another  important  part  of  our  geographic 
work  was  correction  of  the  earlier  maps  made 
by  Payer  and  Jackson.  Payer,  though  an  hon- 
orable and  competent  explorer,  had  been  de- 
ceived into  placing  a  great  glaciated  land  and 
many  islands  where  we  found  that  only  ice-cov- 
ered sea  existed. 

Jackson  had  mapped  two  or  three  islands  in 
the  southern  part  of  the  group  where  we  found 
nine  or  ten.  It  is  easy  to  err  in  the  deceptive 
light  of  the  far  north  in  the  early  part  of  the 
year.  I  felt  sure  I  had  seen  at  some  distance, 
two  islands  east  of  Rudolph,  and  north  of  the 
Liv  Island  of  Dr.  Nansen,  and  put  them  on 
my  map  with  dotted  lines  to  indicate  I  had  ob- 
served but  not  visited  them,  and  named  them 
after  two  most  valued  friends,  Ben  T.  Cable  and 
Tom  Johnson.  The  Duke  of  Abruzzi  expedition 
afterward  found  that  what  I  had  taken  for  two 
islands  must  have  been  only  ice  hummocks,  in 
the  distance  looking  like  lands  in  the  refraction 
of  March. 

After  a  long,  long  wait,  at  last  a  big  ship  was 
reported  steaming  toward  us.  She  proved  to  be 
the  steamer  Capella,  chartered  by  my  brother 
Arthur  to  come  after  us.  How  good  it  was  to 
get  letters  and  newspapers  from  home  after  more 
than  a  year  of  wandering,  and  to  be  able  to 
steam  away  to  the  south  ourselves.  On  our  way 


118  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

out  of  Franz  Josef  Land  we  met  the  Stella 
Polar e,  the  Duke  of  Abruzzi's  ship,  coming  in, 
As  I  was  the  old  settler  it  fell  to  me  to  make 
the  first  call  upon  the  newcomer.  Crawling 
down  into  a  boat  I  was  rowed  over.  The  Duke, 
Capt.  Cagni  and  the  other  officers  and  I  and 
my  American  comrades  had  a  pleasant  visit,  and 
I  formed  a  great  admiration  for  the  sterling 
young  prince  who  has  done  so  much  for  geo- 
graphic research.  Rather  a  strange  meeting, 
this,  between  a  son  of  kings  and  the  son  of  a 
western  farmer  who  had  been  a  private  soldier. 
But  we  met  on  terms  of  equality — science  and 
adventure  level  all  rank  distinctions. 

The  Duke  and  his  party  were  more  fortunate 
than  we  had  been.  Where  we  had  tried  in  vain 
to  force  the  Frithjof  northward  through  the  ice, 
they  now  had  open  water  before  them.  The 
Stella  Polare  actually  reached  the  coast  of  Ru- 
dolph Land,  and  the  Duke  was  able  to  establish 
his  headquarters  almost  as  far  north  as  we  had 
sledged.  From  this  base,  the  following  summer, 
Capt.  Cagni  was  able,  by  a  splendid  and  plucky 
effort,  to  beat  the  record  which  Dr.  Nansen  had 
made  from  the  Fram  a  few  years  earlier. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BY   AIRSHIP   TO   THE    POLE 

This  is  the  age  of  progress,  of  remarkable 
mechanical,  engineering  and  scientific  develop- 
ment. After  returning  from  Franz  Josef  Land, 
addressing  the  British  Association  for  the  Ad- 
vancement of  Science,  the  National  Geographic 
Society,  the  Arctic  Club  of  America,  and  many 
other  scientific  bodies,  the  desire  to  go  north 
again  was  strong  within  me.  Two  years  were 
needed  for  the  recovery  of  my  health,  and  a 
longer  time  to  pay  off,  out  of  my  earnings  as 
a  journalist  and  writer,  the  indebtedness  I  had 
incurred  in  the  Franz  Josef  Land  trip.  But  in- 
stead of  organizing  a  new  expedition  (as  I  was 
strongly  tempted  to  do),  I  determined  to  watch 
the  progress  of  the  arts  and  mechanics  to  see  if 
some  better  means  than  the  primitive  sledge 
could  not  be  found  for  advancing  upon  the  Pole. 

It  did  seem  that  some  such  better  means  should 
be  found — better  than  the  barbaric  employment 
of  sheer  brute  strength.  Naturally,  I  looked  to 
the  then  rapidly  developing  automobile  for  a 
superior  instrument.  If  one  only  had  a  smooth 

119 


120  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

surface  to  travel  upon,  it  would  not  be  difficult 
to  build  a  motor-car  which  could  run  to  the  Pole. 
But  if  we  could  find  a  relatively  smooth  road  the 
discovery  of  the  Pole  would  be  easy  by  sledging 
— in  fact,  the  Pole  would  have  been  reached  long 
ago.  The  smooth  road  does  not  exist. 

One  tiling  I  did  plan,  and  afterward  tried  to 
execute,  was  a  motor-sledge.  The  theory  was 
that  a  motor-car  would  be  of  no  avail  on  account 
of  the  roughness  of  the  road — over  a  hummocky 
ridge,  now  a  deep  pocket  of  soft  snow,  and  here 
and  there  an  open  water  lead  where  the  ice- 
floes had  separated  with  wind  or  current.  A 
heavy  car  or  vehicle  of  any  sort  would  be  useless. 
But  a  light  vehicle,  weighing  only  150  or  200 
pounds,  or  less  than  a  loaded  sledge,  would  be 
different.  Two  men  could  easily  lift  it  over  the 
hummocks  and  ridges.  So  I  planned  to  build  a 
light  motor-sledge  that  could  be  used,  not  to 
carry  loads,  but  to  pull  them.  It  was  to  be  a 
little  locomotive,  drawing  its  string  of  lightly- 
loaded  sledges  behind  it.  On  all  the  smoother 
stretches — and  there  are  intervals  of  good  ice  or 
snow  upon  the  polar  sea-ice — the  motor  traction 
vehicle  could  pull  a  good  load  at  a  rapid  pace. 
The  men  in  charge  of  it  could  ride,  and  thus  be 
rested  by  the  time  the  next  ridge  of  hummocks 
was  reached ;  and  there  the  little  locomotive,  and 
the  small-unit  loaded  sledges  behind,  could  be 


BY  AIRSHIP  TO  THE  POLE     121 

quickly  lifted  over,  and  when  all  was  in  order 
the  motor-vehicle  could  be  set  working  once 
more. 

Let  me  explain  to  the  reader,  at  this  juncture, 
what  the  surface  of  the  polar  sea  is  like.  It  is 
ice  which  never  melts,  and  which  has  an  average 
thickness  of  about  eight  feet.  But  it  is  not  a 
continuous  field  of  ice.  It  is  broken  up  into  in- 
numerable floes  or  pieces.  Some  of  them  are 
small,  only  a  few  rods  across,  others  may  be  miles 
in  width.  These  masses  of  ice  are  almost  never 
at  rest.  They  are  set  in  motion  by  the  tides,  by 
the  currents,  and  above  all,  by  the  winds.  Their 
movement  is  not  equal.  Due  to  various  causes, 
one  may  move  faster  than  another.  Occasion- 
ally neighboring  floes  drift  in  opposite  direc- 
tions. When  they  come  into  collision  we  have  a 
majestic  display  of  force.  The  edges  of  these 
massive  fields  of  thick  ice  crumple  up  as  if  they 
were  paper ;  the  broken-off  pieces,  as  large  as 
houses,  are  thrown  up  into  the  air.  "Ice-screw- 
ing," as  the  Norwegians  call  these  mighty  col- 
lisions, produce  a  roaring,  crackling  noise  much 
like  that  of  a  great  conflagration.  They  leave 
behind  them  scenes  of  wreck  and  chaos — an  ir- 
regular ridge  of  huge  blocks  of  ice  heaped  up  in 
the  wildest  confusion. 

When  one  of  these  ridges  is  freshly-made  the 
blocks  of  ice  are  blue,  sharp-edged.  But  when, 


122  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

as  is  more  likely,  the  upheaval  which  produced 
them  occurred  many  years  before,  they  are 
rounded  off  by  melting  in  the  summer  sun,  and 
much  flying  snow  has  drifted  in  and  around 
them,  they  thus  become  a  line  of  hummocks, 
usually  conical,  the  larger  blocks  standing  fifteen 
or  twenty  feet  above  the  normal  level  of  the  ice- 
fields. One  ridge  of  hummocks  may  have  an- 
other for  its  neighbor  only  a  few  yards  away ;  or 
the  nearest  one  may  be  a  half  mile,  a  mile,  or 
even  several  miles  distant.  Between  them  the 
floe  is  fairly  level,  though  often  broken  up  by 
minor  disturbances  of  past  ages;  and  the  snow 
is  likely  to  be  deep  and  difficult  to  travel. 

The  best  season  for  sledging  over  the  polar 
ice  is,  of  course,  the  spring — after  the  light  has 
returned  with  the  northward-going  sun,  when 
the  snow  is  likely  to  have  a  hard  crust  able  to 
bear  men,  dogs  and  sledges,  and  when  the  floes 
are  less  likely  to  have  open  channels  between 
then,  because  the  cold  is  very  great.  After  May 
the  heat  of  the  sun  softens  and  melts  the  snow. 
Sledges  do  not  run  well  upon  a  wet,  soft  surface. 
The  feet  of  men  and  dogs  sink  deep.  Progress 
is  at  a  very  slow  rate,  and  with  enormous  ex- 
penditure of  energy. 

But  the  cold  period,  while  affording  the  best 
road,  brings  in  other  difficulties  such  as  I  have 
described  in  the  story  of  our  Franz  Josef  Land 


BY  AIRSHIP  TO  THE  POLE     123 

expedition.  Men  are  weakened  morally  and 
physically  by  the  nightly  ordeal  in  the  so-called 
sleeping  bags.  They  awake  in  the  morning — or 
what  corresponds  to  the  morning — but  little  re- 
freshed. Day  after  day  and  week  after  week  of 
this  work,  fighting  for  sleep  after  exhausting 
days,  never  knowing  one  hour  of  real  comfort, 
clothing  wet  and  icy,  fingers,  noses  and  cheeks 
frost-bitten — it  is  not  surprising  men  become  less 
efficient,  that  the  marches  drag  alone  at  a  snail's 
pace. 

Realizing  all  this  in  bitter  experience,  I 
planned  not  only  the  motor-sledge  to  pull  loads 
over  all  the  good  surface  at  an  accelerated  pace, 
but  a  warmed  tent  for  the  men  to  sleep  in.  If 
I  had  organized  another  sledge  expedition  it 
would  have  been  equipped  with  a  tent  of  three 
thicknesses  of  silk,  arranged  to  have  two  air- 
spaces between  the  fabrics,  and  within  a  small 
petroleum  or  gasoline-heating  stove.  In  an  or- 
dinary tent,  even  while  the  coffee  is  being  boiled, 
the  temperature  is  almost  as  low  as  it  is  outside. 
But  experiments  which  I  made  with  a  triple  tent, 
air-spaces  between  the  walls,  showed  that  with  a 
very  small  expenditure  of  fuel  per  night  the  tem- 
perature could  be  raised  thirty  or  forty  degrees 
above  that  of  the  surrounding  atmosphere. 

In  the  Arctic  regions  as  elsewhere  most  things 
are  relative.  We  found  it  a  dreadful  ordeal  to 


124  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

cook,  write,  sew  and  sleep  at  40  to  50  below  zero. 
But  when,  later  in  the  year,  warmer  days  came, 
10  below  zero  up  to  zero  or  a  little  higher  seemed 
a  paradise  of  comfort  and  luxury.  At  home  we 
think  a  room  cold  if  the  temperature  within  it 
falls  below  60  or  70;  and  freezing  weather,  25 
to  32,  is  very  cold.  But  with  sledging  parties 
anything  better  than  5  or  10  below  is  fine,  even 
in  the  kitchen,  the  library,  the  dining-room  and 
the  bedchamber! 

So  I  had  reckoned  it  all  out  that  we  should 
save  far  more  of  physical  strength  and  effective- 
ness by  having  a  fairly  comfortable  tent  in  which 
to  live  than  it  would  cost  us  in  energy  to  haul 
the  small  quantity  of  fuel  required  to  warm  the 
tent  during  the  coldest  weather.  I  also  cal- 
culated that  the  motor-sledge  of  light  weight 
would  be  more  efficient  than  dogs,  though  the 
plan  was  to  use  dogs  as  well  as  motor- vehicles. 
But  other  plans  eventually  took  the  place  of 
these  interesting  suggestions. 

I  had  never  lost  sight  of  the  air  as  a  royal  road. 
Confidence  in  the  ordinary  balloon,  without  en- 
gine or  rudder,  a  mere  toy  of  the  winds,  was  at 
low  ebb  after  Andree's  tragedy,  though  it  is  not 
at  all  improbable  another  attempt  of  the  same 
sort  might  have  had  a  more  fortunate  outcome. 

But  in  the  autumn  of  1905,  while  at  the  Ports- 
mouth Peace  Conference,  my  attention  was 


BY  AIRSHIP  TO  THE  POLE     125 

drawn  to  the  practical  success  of  the  Lebaudy 
dirigible  balloon  in  France.  This  airship,  with  a 
total  lifting  capacity  of  about  7,500  pounds,  had 
made  a  large  number  of  short  voyages  and  had 
been  adopted  by  the  French  Government  as  a 
military  machine.  It  at  once  occurred  to  me 
that  if  this  type  of  airship  was  good  enough  for 
the  purposes  of  war,  it  ought  to  be  good  enough 
for  geographic  exploration,  as  an  instrument 
with  which  to  extend  man's  knowledge  of  the 
earth.  And  action  quickly  followed  the  inspira- 
tion. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

PREPARING  FOR  THE   AIRSHIP   POLAR  EXPEDITION 

Going  to  Paris  the  first  of  January,  1906,  I 
at  once  set  on  foot  an  exhaustive  inquiry  as  to 
the  practicability  of  motor-balloons  in  polar  ex- 
ploration. All  the  known  experts  and  authori- 
ties were  consulted.  Among  them  were  Henri 
Julliot,  who  had  built  the  Lebaudy,  and  wTho 
afterward  built  La  Patrie,  La  Republique,  and 
other  airships;  Commandante  Bouttieaux,  of  the 
French  Military  Aeronautic  establishment  at 
Meudon;  Captain  Ferber,  who  since  lost  his  life 
in  an  aeroplane  flight ;  Colonel  Renard,  the  well- 
known  authority  on  aeronautics;  the  construct- 
ors, Maurice  Mallet,  Edouard  Surcouf,  Louis 
Godard;  F.  S.  Lahm,  an  American  who  is 
prominent  in  aeronautic  circles  in  Paris;  the 
veteran  Wilfred  de  Fonvielle,  who  took  a  big 
balloon  out  of  Paris  during  the  siege  in  1872; 
Count  de  la  Vaulx,  who  holds  the  long-distance 
spherical  balloon  record,  and  many  others. 
Santos  Dumont,  the  young  Brazilian  who  had 
done  such  valuable  experimental  work  with 
motor-balloons,  thought  so  well  of  our  project 

126 


PREPARING  EXPEDITION      127 

that  at  one  time  he  seriously  considered  joining 
me  in  the  effort.  All  sorts  of  opinions  were 
drawn  from  the  men  who  spoke  from  experience 
and  knowledge  of  the  art,  but  the  general  judg- 
ment was  favorable  to  the  project. 

The  idea  of  seeking  the  Pole  in  a  motor- 
driven  balloon — a  true  airship — caught  the  im- 
agination of  the  French  people,  and  I  was 
given  cordial  welcome  everywhere.  The  emi- 
nent scientist  and  astronomer,  Prof.  Janssen,  of 
the  Observatory,  said:  "Andree's  voyage  was 
suicide;  yours  promises  success."  He  presented 
me  to  the  famous  French  Academy  of  Sciences, 
where  much  encouragement  was  generously  ex- 
tended by  the  savants.  I  was  made  a  member 
of  the  Aero  Club  of  France,  and  addressed  by 
invitation  the  Aerial  Navigation  Society,  the 
Meteorological  Society,  and  other  bodies. 

Thorough  investigation  of  details  having  con- 
vinced me  that  the  airship  afforded  at  least  a 
promising  means  of  reaching  the  Pole,  I  deter- 
mined to  build  such  a  ship,  and  to  build  it,  if 
possible,  quick  enough  to  enable  us  to  take  it  to 
the  Arctic  regions  during  the  summer  then  ap- 
proaching, and  to  have  at  least  an  experimental 
voyage  with  it.  Airships  and  polar  expeditions 
cost  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  have  the  necessary  capital  at  my  com- 
mand. 


128  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Before  leaving  America  I  had  placed  my 
project  before  the  owners  of  the  newspaper  with 
which  I  have  been  associated  for  a  quarter  of 
a  century,  the  Chicago  Record-Herald.  Mr. 
Frank  B.  Noyes,  then  publisher  of  the  paper, 
and  the  President  of  the  Associated  Press,  the 
greatest  news-gathering  organization  in  the 
world,  liked  the  idea,  and  took  me  to  Mr.  Victor 
F.  Lawson,  then  the  owner  of  the  Record- 
Herald,  and  also  of  the  Chicago  Daily  News. 
After  a  full  and  searching  discussion  it  was 
agreed  that  we  should  organize  the  Wellman 
Chicago  Record-Herald  Polar  Expedition. 
This  title  was  dreadfully  long  and  clumsy,  but 
nothing  else  would  do.  Mr.  Lawson  subscribed 
for  most  of  the  stock  of  the  corporation,  and  did 
so  through  public  spirit  and  his  desire  to  aid  in 
doing  something  for  progress.  Only  inciden- 
tally did  he  think  of  advertising  his  newspaper, 
and  he  knew  that  as  a  business  proposition  it 
would  be  a  losing  one — that  if  it  was  advertising 
he  wanted  he  could  get  much  more  in  other  ways 
at  far  less  cost. 

Nevertheless,  when  the  plan  of  the  expedition 
was  announced,  a  part  of  the  press  received  it 
with  skepticism  and  sneers.  In  their  opinion  it 
was  nothing  but  an  advertising  scheme.  Worse 
still,  emboldened  by  their  narrow  imagination, 
many  declared  the  project  was  only  a  fake,  a 


PREPARING  EXPEDITION      129 

bluff,  that  there  was  no  serious  intention  of  trj^- 
ing  to  reach  the  Pole,  and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the 
string  of  denunciation  and  slander.  Of  course  it 
was  useless  to  reply  to  these  criticisms.  One 
could  only  go  ahead  with  his  work  and  do  the 
best  he  could. 

One  theory  I  have  always  held,  and  still  cling 
to  it.  It  is  that  the  great  newspapers  of  the 
world  should  take  the  lead  in  all  good  works  for 
the  public  benefit — reformations,  constructions, 
experiments,  explorations,  furtherance  of  all 
worthy  activities  in  all  the  fields  of  progress  and 
endeavor.  In  my  efforts  I  have  had  the  support 
of  some  of  the  greatest  journals  on  both  sides  of 
the  Atlantic,  and  I  am  proud  of  it.  I  hope  the 
day  may  come  when  our  newspapers  will  be  still 
more  enterprising  in  these  fields,  and  when 
journalistic  breadth  will  be  found  sufficient  to 
welcome,  recognize  and  encourage  all  good  work, 
no  matter  if  made  under  the  auspices  of  others 
in  the  profession.  The  old  idea  that  newspapers 
are  rivals,  and  must  fight  one  another,  ignore  the 
other's  activities  or  belittle  and  sneer  at  them— 
even  questioning  the  motives  and  assailing  the 
character  of  individuals — is  a  narrow,  short- 
sighted one,  savoring  far  more  of  the  country 
cross-roads  than  of  metropolitan  journalism. 

That  our  project  should  be  received  with  gen- 
eral skepticism  was  perfectly  natural,  and  no  one 


130  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

could  complain  of  that.  Few  people  in  America 
knew  what  had  been  done  or  could  be  done  with 
modern  airships.  They  could  not  get  out  of 
their  minds  the  idea  that  an  airship  was  nothing 
but  a  balloon,  and  that  its  car  was  only  a  basket. 
Even  the  newspapers  which  attacked  and 
sneered  were  guilty  of  like  lack  of  information. 
Some  of  the  caviling  editors  plainly  showed 
they  did  not  know  the  difference  between  an 
aeroplane  and  a  motor-balloon;  supposed  it  was 
always  fifty  below  zero  in  the  Arctic  regions; 
and  were  unaware  whether  Spitzbergen  was  a 
town  in  Norway  or  an  island  off  the  coast  of 
Sweden.  One  editor,  who  attacked  us  fiercely, 
spoke  of  Smeerenburg  as  a  populous  city  where 
we  could  get  all  the  labor  we  required! 

Those  early  months  of  1906  were  days  of 
feverish  activity.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been 
better  not  to  try  to  go  on  with  the  expedition 
that  summer,  but  we  Americans  like  to  do  things 
rapidly,  and  the  rapidity  of  our  operations 
astonished  the  slow-going  people  of  Europe. 
By  the  end  of  January  I  had  finished  my  con- 
ferences with  experts  and  decided  upon  the  size 
and  plan  of  the  airship.  The  contract  for  build- 
ing this  huge  ship  in  all  its  parts  was  let  to  M. 
Louis  Godard,  a  well-known  constructor  and 
aeronaut,  who  was  believed  to  stand  at  the  head 
of  his  profession. 


PREPARING  EXPEDITION      131 

A  staff  of  engineers  and  experts  was  organ- 
ized, including  M.  Gaston  Hervieu,  gas  en- 
gineer, Alexander  Liwenthaal,  an  architect,  and 
M.  Colardeau,  a  mechanical  expert.  In  Nor- 
way I  chartered  a  steamship  to  carry  us  to 
Spitzbergen,  again  securing  the  old  Frith  jo  f, 
which  had  taken  us  to  Franz  Josef  Land  in  1898. 
A  hydrogen  gas  apparatus  of  large  capacity  was 
built  in  Paris  to  be  transported  to  Spitzbergen. 
One  hundred  and  ten  tons  of  sulphuric  acid  for 
making  hydrogen  were  ordered  from  Reher  and 
Ramsden,  Hamburg,  and  seventy  tons  of  iron 
turnings  were  secured  in  Norway.  Tons  of  pro- 
visions were  purchased  from  Armour  &  Co., 
Chicago,  and  Acker,  Merrall  &  Condit,  New 
York,  and  shipped  across  the  Atlantic.  A  ship- 
load of  timber  and  building  material  of  all  sorts 
was  procured  in  Norway,  clothing  and  general 
outfit  in  London,  also  instruments  for  naviga- 
tional purposes.  Sledges  were  ordered  built  to 
my  specifications.  Steel  boats  I  ordered  from 
Mullins,  the  well-known  builder  of  Salem,  Ohio, 
and  a  good  suppy  of  malted  milk  from  the 
celebrated  Horlick  establishment  at  Racine, 
Wis.  Pumping  engines,  a  steam  engine  and 
boiler,  lathes,  drills  and  tools  for  a  machine  shop 
were  ordered  in  London. 

This  incomplete  list  will  give  the  reader  an 
ide.a  of  the  wonderful  lot  of  work  which  is  in- 


132  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

volved  in  the  preparation  of  an  expedition  like 
this — an  expedition  which  ran  into  most  of 
the  arts  and  sciences  and  involved  prodigious 
foresight  and  care  if  everything  was  to  be  at- 
tended to  in  proper  fashion.  Spitzbergen  being 
an  uninhabited  country,  and  there  being  no 
means  of  communication  between  our  head- 
quarters and  Norway,  save  by  sending  our 
steamer  to  and  fro — a  voyage  of  from  15  to  20 
days  at  the  least — it  was  necessary  to  take  with 
us  everything  necessary  for  our  large  and  com- 
plex building,  mechanical,  aeronautic  and  chem- 
ical operations.  I  am  proud  to  say  that  not  a 
tool  or  nail  or  appliance  or  material  was  lack- 
ing. Not  only  in  this  first  campaign,  but  the 
two  campaigns  which  followed,  there  never  was 
a  demand  from  any  of  our  departments  which 
was  not  filled  from  the  stock  we  had  with  us. 

As  it  was  my  plan  from  the  first  to  equip 
the  airship  in  such  manner  that  its  crew  could 
at  any  moment,  if  necessary,  bring  the  craft 
down  to  the  surface  of  the  ice-fields,  and  then  con- 
vert themselves  into  a  sledging  party,  it  was 
necessary  to  have  dogs  for  the  sledges.  Alex- 
ander Trontheim  I  could  not  get  hold  of  this 
time,  but  after  overcoming  many  difficulties  man- 
aged to  get  another  resident  of  Siberia  to  send 
men  down  the  Ob  river  to  the  Ostiak  tribes  on  the 
Arctic  coast  and  from  them  procure  a  pack  of 


PREPARING  EXPEDITION      133 

thirty  selected  sledge  dogs,  to  be  delivered  at 
Archangel,  by  a  certain  day.  The  dogs  were 
delivered  in  time,  at  a  cost  of  about  $70  per 
dog,  though  I  dare  say  the  natives  got  not  much 
more  than  the  equivalent  of  a  two  dollar  bill 
apiece  for  them.  Instead  of  sending  the  Frith- 
jof  all  the  way  round  to  Archangel  to  take  these 
dogs  aboard,  as  I  had  done  in  1898,  arrangements 
were  made  to  have  them  shipped  by  regular 
steamer  across  the  White  Sea  to  Norway.  An- 
other complication  was  met  at  this  juncture. 
The  laws  of  Norway  do  not  permit  alien  dogs 
to  be  landed  in  the  country.  But  the  Norwe- 
gian government  at  Christiania  made  a  special 
dispensation  in  our  behalf,  as  they  had  done  be- 
fore, and  the  unfailing  courtesy  of  these  officials 
I  wish  to  acknowledge. 

An  effort  was  also  made  to  build  motor- 
sledges,  in  accordance  with  the  plans  I  had  pre- 
viously prepared.  But  it  was  not  successful.  I 
was  compelled  to  go  to  America  and  to  leave  the 
details  in  the  hands  of  assistants.  They  built  the 
sledges  far  too  heavy — good  for  work  on  smooth 
ice,  as  they  proved  when  tested  out  on  the  lakes 
of  Norway,  but  useless  upon  the  rough  ice  of  the 
polar  ocean. 

In  America,  as  well  as  Europe,  many  scien- 
tific bodies  gave  us  recognition  and  encourage- 
ment. The  National  Geographic  Society  of 


134  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Washington  formally  endorsed  our  Expedition 
and  appointed  a  committee  with  Prof.  Henry 
Gannett  as  its  chairman  to  aid  us  in  preparations 
for  scientific  work.  Through  the  then  President 
of  the  Society,  Prof.  Willis  Moore,  Chief  of  the 
United  States  Weather  Bureau,  Major  Henry 
B.  Hersey,  Inspector  of  the  Weather  Bureau, 
who  had  volunteered  for  the  service,  was  attached 
to  the  Expedition  as  meteorologist  and  also  as 
navigator,  and  later  I  made  him  executive  officer. 
He  served  with  the  Expedition  two  years. 
Felix  Riesenberg,  a  young  sailor  from  the  U.  S. 
Revenue  cutter  service  (now  of  Columbia 
University)  was  also  engaged,  and  Dr.  W.  N. 
Fowler,  of  Bluffton,  Ind.,  was  signed  as  medical 
officer.  A  few  skilled  machinists  were  taken 
from  Paris,  and  about  25  mechanics  and  general 
workmen  were  engaged  at  Tromso,  Trondhjem 
and  Hammerfest,  Norway,  including  Paul 
Bjoervig,  who  had  been  with  me  both  in  Spitz- 
bergen  and  Franz  Josef  Land,  and  Olaf  El- 
lefsen,  who  had  been  a  valued  member  of  the 
Franz  Josef  Land  party. 

The  National  Geographic  Magazine  for  April, 
1906,  published  the  following: 

"At  a  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Managers  of 
the  National  Geographic  Society  on  March  16, 
"1906,  President  Willis  L.  Moore  in  the  chair, 
the  following  resolution,  moved  by  Dr.  Alex- 


•S 


PREPARING  EXPEDITION      135 

ander  Graham  Bell  and  seconded  by  Rear  Ad- 
miral Colby  M.  Chester,  U.  S.  N.,  was  unan- 
imously adopted : 

"  'Resolved,  That  it  is  the  sense  of  the  Board 
that  the  plans  outlined  by  Mr.  Walter  Wellman 
for  reaching  the  North  Pole  are  carefully  and 
thoroughly  considered,  and  give  good  promise 
of  success; 

'That  the  Board  heartily  approves  of  these 
plans,  and  will  do  everything  in  its  power  to  aid 
in  carrying  them  out; 

"'That  the  Board  accepts  Mr.  Wellman's 
proposition  to  send  a  scientific  representative, 
and  will,  as  far  as  possible,  see  that  such  repre- 
sentative is  equipped  for  the  work  involved.' 

"Major  Henry  E.  Hersey  has  been  appointed 
the  representative  of  the  National  Geographic 
Society  to  accompany  Mr.  Wellman,  and  the 
scientific  program  is  now  being  arranged  by  the 
Research  Committee  of  the  Society,  consisting 
of  Vice-President  Henry  Gannett,  Chairman; 
Prof.  C.  Hart  Merriam,  F.  V.  Coville,  Prof.  A. 
J.  Henry,  Prof.  O.  H.  Tittmann,  C.  W.  Hayes, 
Prof.  L.  A.  Bauer,  W.  H.  Holmes,  O.  P.  Aus- 
tin, and  Admiral  C.  M.  Chester. 

"When  the  Spanish- American  war  began, 
Major  Hersey  was  in  the  charge  of  the  climate 
and  crop  work  of  the  U.  S.  Weather  Bureau  in 
Arizona.  He  obtained  leave  of  absence,  raised 


136  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

a  regiment,  and  offered  his  services  to  the  govern- 
ment. Only  part  of  the  regiment  was  needed, 
so  that  Major  Hersey  was  transferred  as  captain 
to  the  Rough  Riders,  of  which  he  was  the  rank- 
ing major  when  the  war  closed.  Since  then  he 
has  been  connected  with  the  U.  S.  Weather  Bu- 
reau. Probably  two  additional  men  will  ac- 
company Mr.  Wellman  and  Major  Hersey  in 
the  airship  voyage. 

"The  first  announcement  that  Mr.  Wellman 
would  attempt  to  reach  the  North  Pole  in  an  air- 
ship was  made  on  December  31,  1905.  Mr. 
Victor  Lawson,  the  principal  owner  of  the 
Chicago  Record-Herald  and  a  life  member  of 
the  National  Geographic  Society,  supplies  the 
money.  His  public  spirit  and  generosity  in  thus 
supporting  an  expedition  which  will  probably 
cost  more  than  $250,000  before  it  is  complete  is 
deserving  of  the  highest  respect  and  appreciation. 
The  expedition  has  been  incorporated  under  the 
laws  of  Maine,  with  Mr.  Lawson,  president ;  Mr. 
Frank  B.  Noyes,  editor  of  the  Chicago  Record- 
Herald,  treasurer,  and  Mr.  Wellman,  general 
manager.  The  plans  of  the  airship  were  deter- 
mined after  much  deliberation  with  the  leading 
experts  in  aeronautics  of  France. 

:' Among  Mr.  Wellman's  advisers  were  Alberto 
Santos-Dumont ;  the  engineer,  Henri  Julliot, 
who  built  the  Lebaudy  dirigible  and  who  has 


PREPARING  EXPEDITION      137 

just  been  accorded  the  grand  cross  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor;  Commandant  Renard,  of  the  army, 
representative  of  the  distinguished  family  whose 
names  are  famous  in  the  history  of  aerial  naviga- 
tion; Commandant  Bouttiaux,  chief  of  the  army 
aerostatic  station  at  Meudon;  Captain  Voyer, 
assistant  chief  and  a  man  of  great  experience  in 
aeronautics  and  with  dirigibles;  M.  Goupil,  well- 
known  mathematician,  the  greatest  authority  in 
France  on  aerial  screws,  engineer,  and  chevalier 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor;  Captain  Ferber,  an 
expert  not  only  in  aeronautics,  but  in  aviation; 
M.  Edouard  Surcouf,  a  well-known  constructor 
and  engineer,  who  is  now  building  a  dirigible  for 
M.  Deustch  (de  la  Meurthe)  ;  M.  Louis  Godard, 
the  aeronaut  and  constructor  who  has  built  scores 
of  ships  of  the  air,  and  who  has  made  500  ascen- 
sions; and  many  others." 

The  De  Forest  Wireless  Telegraph  Company 
had  undertaken  to  equip  the  Frithjof  with  wire- 
less, and  also  to  establish  stations  at  Hammerf  est, 
Norway,  and  one  also  in  Spitzbergen,  so  that 
constant  communication  could  be  maintained 
from  our  camp  to  civilization.  Owing  to  internal 
troubles,  the  De  Forest  Company  did  not  com- 
plete its  contract.  They  did  send  instruments  to 
Europe,  and  one  man;  but  I  had  to  take  charge  of 
the  operation  and  endeavor  to  secure  results.  We 
equipped  the  Frithjof,  and  built  a  tall  mast  and 


138  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

station  at  Hammerfest,  at  great  expense.  The 
number  of  messages  we  were  able  to  get  through 
in  nowise  compensated  us  for  the  outlay  of 
money,  labor  and  annoyance. 

With  all  these  affairs  of  men  and  materials 
and  supplies  and  outfitting  and  construction  and 
preparation  on  my  hands,  it  may  be  imagined 
that  I  was  a  pretty  busy  man.  And  at  the  same 
time  we  were  building  the  second  largest  airship 
in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BUILDING    THE    POLAR    AIRSHIP 

Airship  construction  and  operation  is  an  art 
which  has  not  made  much  progress  in  this 
country,  although  Knabenshue,  Baldwin,  and 
perhaps  others  have  done  interesting  and  val- 
uable work  on  a  small  scale.  In  this  country 
the  prevailing  conception  of  an  airship  is  that  of 
a  gas  bag  of  small  size,  relatively,  covered  with 
a  netting  of  ropes  or  steel  wires,  and  with  suffi- 
cient lifting  capacity,  when  inflated  with  hy- 
drogen gas,  to  carry  the  balloon,  a  light  frame- 
work of  bamboo  or  wood,  one  or  two  men,  and 
a  small  motor,  with  a  sufficient  supply  of  fuel  to 
run  it  for  a  few  hours. 

Our  polar  dirigible  is  an  entirely  different  sort 
of  affair.  Its  great  size  enables  it  to  lift  not 
onhr  the  balloon,  but  the  car  of  wood  and  steel,  the 
three  motors,  comprising  a  total  of  eighty  horse- 
power, two  screws  or  propulseurs,  a  steel  boat, 
five  men,  food  for  them  for  seventy-five  days, 
instruments,  tools,  repair  materials,  lubricating 
oils,  and  5,500  pounds  of  gasoline  for  the  motors. 
It  will  be  seen  that  in  its  cargo  capacity  our  ship 

139 


140  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

of  the  air,  with  its  eight  tons  of  carrying  power, 
much  more  resembles  a  vessel  to  navigate  the 
water  than  the  small  contrivances  used  by 
Santos-Dumont,  Knabenshue,  and  Baldwin  in 
aerial  experimentation. 

The  instructions  given  by  me  to  M.  Godard, 
and  embodied  in  the  contract,  were  to  spare 
neither  weight  nor  expense  in  his  efforts  to  make 
a  balloon  that  should  give  the  maximum  of  se- 
curity and  endurance.  It  is  known  that  the  un- 
fortunate Andree  met  his  fate  partly  through 
faulty  construction  of  his  balloon;  that  it  lacked 
the  gas-tightness  which  should  have  enabled  it  to 
remain  a  long  time  in  the  air,  and  that  the  fabric 
of  which  it  was  composed  did  not  possess  suffi- 
cient tensile  strength  to  enable  it  to  resist  the 
elements  and  give  its  navigators  a  fair  chance  for 
their  lives.  I  was  determined  to  avoid  such  mis- 
takes if  care  and  prudence  and  outlay  could 
suffice  to  do  it.  For  in  one  particular,  and  in 
one  only,  speaking  broadly,  is  our  enterprise 
comparable  to  that  of  Andree — the  solidity  and 
endurance  of  the  gasbag  is  as  essential  to  us  as  it 
was  to  him,  despite  the  fact  that  his  aerial  craft 
was  a  mere  toy  of  the  winds,  without  motive 
power  or  steerability,  while  ours  is  to  have  both. 

In  the  past  most  balloons  have  been  made  of 
silk,  varnished  with  from  two  to  five  coatings; 
but  in  recent  constructions  of  important  char- 


BUILDING  POLAR  AIRSHIP     141 

acter  cotton  tissues  have  been  employed  in  one 
or  more  thicknesses,  coated  with  a  thin  film  of 
pure  rubber  applied  by  means  of  special  machin- 
ery similar  to  the  calenders  of  paper  mills.  The 
Lebaudy  airship  had  two  tissues  of  this  cotton, 
both  rubbered.  After  careful  consideration  and 
elaborate  calculations  of  pressures  arid  strains, 
three  thicknesses  of  fabric  were  decided  upon  for 
our  ship — two  of  cotton  material  and  one  of  silk 
—with  three  coatings  of  rubber.  All  three  are 
consolidated  into  one  fabric,  giving  great  tensile 
strength.  Counting  from  the  interior  of  the 
balloon,  the  envelope  is  made  up  as  follows : 


OUXCES 
PER    SQ. 


Strong  silk    278 

Caoutchouc   (Para  pure)    344 

Cotton    344 

Caoutchouc    213 

Cotton    328 

Caoutchouc .147 


Total    1.654 

In  the  central  zone  embracing  the  "maitre 
couple,"  or  greatest  diameter,  the  pressure  of  the 
gas  rises  to  9o  pounds  per  square  foot.  It  is 
upon  this  central  zone  the  envelope  is  applied  as 


142  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

outlined  above — one  strong  silk  and  two  thick- 
nesses of  cotton,  with  three  coats  of  rubber. 
These  three  thicknesses  of  material,  consolidated 
into  one,  give  a  total  tensile  strength  of  about 
575  pounds  per  square  foot.  Hence  wre  have 
this  result:  Maximum  strain,  95  pounds  per 
square  foot;  tensile  strength,  575  pounds  per 
square  foot;  coefficient  of  safety,  6  to  1. 

In  the  next  zones  the  pressure  ranges  from  315 
to  450  kilos  per  square  meter.  With  a  maxi- 
mum of  450  kilos  to  provide  for,  a  lighter  silk 
is  used  in  these  zones,  reducing  the  weight  of 
the  envelope  to  455  grammes  per  square  meter, 
but  retaining  2,400  kilos  of  tensile  strength, 
which  means  a  coefficient  of  more  than  5  to  1. 

In  the  outer  sections  the  maximum  pressure 
is  350  kilos  and  here  the  envelope  is  composed  of 
two  thicknesses  of  cotton  with  three  coatings  of 
rubber,  omitting  the  silk,  and  again  saving  in 
weight,  but  securing  1,800  kilos  of  strength  per 
square  meter — again  with  a  coefficient  of  safety 
of  more  than  5  to  1. 

In  the  Lebaudy  airship  the  coefficient  of 
safety  was  3^  to  1.  We  have  a  coefficient  of 
more  than  5  to  1  throughout. 

The  tensile  strength  of  the  fabrics  is  not  a 
matter  of  guesswork.  Samples  of  each  consign- 
ment from  the  manufacturer  are  submitted  to  the 


BUILDING  POLAR  AIRSHIP     143 

Paris  Chamber  of  Commerce,  tested  by  dyna- 
mometer, and  officially  stamped.  These  tests 
are  under  the  regulations  of  the  chamber  of  com- 
merce, and  the  certificates  are  made  the  bases  of 
contracts  and  their  fulfillment. 

In  computing  the  work  of  the  gas  upon  the 
fabric  of  the  balloon  it  is  assumed  that  the  in- 
terior pressure  is  equivalent  to  30  millimeters  of 
water,  or  about  6  pounds  per  square  foot.  This 
pressure  is  maintained  by  means  of  the  ventilator 
or  blower  which  inflates  with  air  the  balloonet 
or  interior  balloon,  and  which  is  operated  by  an 
independent  motor  of  5  horsepower  in  the  en- 
gine-room. The  use  of  the  pressure  is  to  main- 
tain the  rigidity  of  form  of  the  great  balloon,  as 
there  are  no  interior  frames  or  other  stiffening 
devices.  The  integrity  of  form  is  maintained 
solely  by  interior  pressure,  and  though  it  is  un- 
likely the  interior  pressure  within  our  balloon 
will  ever  exceed  25  millimeters,  the  fabric  of  the 
envelope  has  strength  sufficient  to  give  a  factor 
of  safety  of  5  to  1  at  30  millimeters. 

In  addition  to  the  tensile  strength  of  the  en- 
velope, every  seam,  whether  circumferential  or 
longitudinal,  is  reinforced.  The  material  is 
lapped  about  25  millimeters  (one  inch),  and 
doubly  sewn.  Inasmuch  as  there  is  danger  that 
the  hydrogen  may  escape  through  the  little  holes 


144  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

made  by  the  needle,  all  the  sewing  lines  are  cov- 
ered with  bands  of  fabric  cemented  to  the  en- 
velope— first  a  band  covering  the  seam,  and  over 
that  still  another  and  wider  one.  The  primary 
purpose  of  these  interior  bands  is  to  make  the 
envelope  as  nearly  as  possible  gas-tight,  but  they 
also  add  greatly  to  the  tensile  strength  of  the 
skin. 

The  outer  surface  of  the  balloon  is  quite 
smooth.  There  is  no  netting  of  cordage  or  of 
wires  to  hold  moisture,  snow,  or  frost.  Besides, 
the  outer  surface  is  a  coating  of  rubber,  which 
will  serve  to  shed  the  rain  and  snow  and  prevent 
moisture  entering  the  fabric.  In  effect  the 
double  reinforcing  bands  which  cover  the  seams, 
circumferentially  and  longitudinally,  act  as  an 
interior  netting,  consolidated  with  the  envelope, 
and  increasing  materially  its  powers  of  resistance 
to  all  stresses.  This  added  tensile  strength  is 
not  computed  in  the  coefficient  of  5  to  1. 

No  means  has  as  yet  been  found  of  making, 
with  fabrics,  an  absolutely  gas-tight  reservoir. 
In  varnished  silk  balloons,  even  when  of  two  or 
three  thicknesses  of  material,  the  loss  ranges 
from  1.1/2  to  3  per  cent  daily.  With  fabrics 
coated  with  caoutchouc  these  losses  are  materially 
reduced;  and  with  our  threefold  material  and 
three  coatings  of  rubber  we  shall,  according  to 
the  experts,  approximate  very  closely  to  gas- 


BUILDING  POLAR  AIRSHIP     145 

tightness.  The  contract  called  for  an  envelope 
from  which  the  loss  by  leakage  should  not  exceed 
ll/2  per  cent  in  24  hours. 

The  weights  of  the  various  materials  entering 
into  the  construction  of  the  huge  balloon  were 
approximately  as  follows: 

POUNDS. 

Fabric  of  the  envelope,  and  rubber  coat- 
ings    2,200 

Reinforcing  bands 225 

Etraves  and  relingues    (for  suspension 

of  car) 100 

Five  valves 110 

Balloonet  of  light  varnished  silk 225 

Total 2,860 

Allowing  for  the  three  thicknesses,  for  the 
laps,  and  for  wastage  in  cutting,  approximately 
12,000  square  yards  of  fabric  will  be  required. 
The  cost  of  material  is  about  $1.50  per  yard  as 
it  comes  from  the  factory. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

"A  SCIENTIFIC  VILLAGE   IX   THE   ARCTICS" 

In  June,  1906,  we  were  able  to  send  Frith j of 
from  Tromso,  Norway,  in  charge  of  Major 
Hersey,  with  a  full  cargo  of  timber,  machinery 
and  supplies,  and  more  than  a  score  of  work- 
men. They  were  instructed  to  land  at  Virgo 
Bay,  Dane's  Island,  and  there  begin  at  once  the 
erection  of  the  buildings  needed  by  the  Expe- 
dition. Thus  again  was  the  site  of  Andree's 
ill-fated  enterprise  to  be  the  scene  of  strange 
activity,  denoting  man's  restless  search  for  the 
unknown.  The  Frithjof  made  a  good  voyage, 
but  found  the  Dannish  Strait  full  of  ice,  and  a 
landing  of  the  timber  arid  material  was  effected 
only  with  great  difficulty.  Some  snowstorms — 
;a  snowstorm  may  come  any  day  of  the  year  in 
that  region — also  delayed  operations.  But  as 
soon  as  possible  they  took  their  cargo  ashore  and 
at  once  sent  Frithjof  back  to  Tromso  to  fetch  the 
airship  and  my  party. 

But  I  was  having  troubles  of  my  own,  and 
plenty  of  them.  The  contractor  of  the  airship, 
M.  Godard,  had  been  delayed  by  strikes,  and 

146 


"A  SCIENTIFIC  VILLAGE"      147 

was  unable  to  finish  the  mechanical  part  of  the 
ship  in  time  to  permit  the  motor  trials  which  had 
been  agreed  upon.  In  fact,  the  principal  motor 
— there  were  to  be  two  engines — was  not  deliv- 
ered by  the  manufacturers,  and  I  soon  found 
myself  facing  these  horns  of  the  dilemma:  To 
hold  the  contractor  to  his  bargain,  and  have  no 
airship  to  take  to  Spitzbergen;  or,  go  in  with 
money  and  energy  and  try  to  help  him  finish 
his  work.  American  like,  I  decided  upon  the 
latter  course.  I  bought  a  Clement  50-60  horse- 
power motor  at  a  high  price  and  had  it  imme- 
diately installed.  A  day  was  set  for  testing  out 
the  machinery,  and  all  the  aeronautic  world  of 
Paris,  and  many  scientific  men,  government  offi- 
cials, ambassadors  and  others  of  distinction,  came 
to  witness  the  trials. 

M.  Godard  was  by  trade  a  balloon-maker. 
In  that  branch  of  the  art  he  excelled,  and  the 
huge  balloon  he  had  built  for  us  was  of  excellent 
material  and  workmanship.  He  was  not  so  for- 
tunate in  his  mechanical  construction.  The  car, 
or  "nacelle,"  was  of  wood  reinforced  with  steel 
—a  platform  about  thirty  feet  in  length  and 
five  feet  wide.  Upon  it  were  placed  the  motors 
and  machinery.  Each  motor  was  to  drive  a  pro- 
peller of  wood  with  cafivas  facings  placed  at 
either  end  of  the  car.  A  tent-like  roof  gave 
protection  to  the  crew  from  wind  and  weather, 


148  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

and  a  huge  basket  was  to  be  swung  underneath 
the  car  for  carrying  supplies  of  gasoline  and  pro- 
visions. 

Though  far  from  being  satisfied  with  many 
of  the  details  of  this  installation,  rather  than 
have  the  Expedition  postponed  one  year,  I  de- 
cided to  accept  it,  hoping  to  get  it  all  in  better 
order  with  our  own  staff  of  mechanics  at  Spitz- 
bergen.  So  much  time  had  been  lost  that  in 
order  to  catch  the  Frith j of  at  Tromso,  and  reach 
our  base  at  Spitzbergen  early  enough  to  have 
a  chance  to  finish  our  work  of  preparation  and 
get  a  voyage  that  summer,  it  was  necessary  to 
charter  a  special  train  to  carry  the  airship  from 
Paris  to  Antwerp,  where  the  steamer  Frigga  was 
waiting  to  carry  the  cargo  to  the  south  Norwe- 
gian coast,  thence  to  be  taken  on  1,000  miles  to 
Tromso  in  the  far  north.  We  sent  our  own  men 
with  the  cargo  to  make  sure  everything  was 
properly  handled,  caught  every  connection,  and 
July  4th  left  Tromso  with  everything  aboard 
the  Friihjof. 

Tromso  is  one  of  the  most  northerly  towns 
in  the  world.  It  is  near  the  70th  parallel  of 
north  latitude,  which  places  it  in  about  the 
same  latitude  as  Cape  Farewell,  the  southern 
end  of  Greenland,  and  the  northern  shores  of 
Alaska.  The  chief  industry  of  the  place  is  fish- 
ing, though  there  is  a  little  agriculture.  Among 


"A  SCIENTIFIC  VILLAGE"      149 

the  5,000  inhabitants  are  some  of  the  most  de- 
lightful people  in  the  world,  and  the  society 
there  is  refined  and  elegant.  The  climate  is  pe- 
culiar. In  winter  there  are  about  eight  weeks 
during  which  the  sun  does  not  rise  at  noon. 
At  that  period  the  people  light  their  lamps  or 
turn  on  the  electric  light  when  they  get  up  in 
the  morning,  and  keep  them  burning  till  they 
go  to  bed  at  night.  In  mid-summer,  of  course, 
there  is  a  period  of  the  same  length  throughout 
which  the  sun  does  not  set  at  midnight,  and 
weeks  more  in  which  the  nights  are  almost  as 
light  as  day.  In  these  darkless  nights  of  mid- 
summer the  Tromso  people  roam  the  streets, 
row  in  the  strait,  climb  the  mountains,  spend 
much  time  in  the  beautiful  city  park  which  lies 
on  the  hills  above  the  town.  They  sleep  little 
in  the  light  period,  but  make  up  for  it  all  in 
the  dark  winter. 

After  a  quick  voyage  we  arrived  at  Virgo 
Bay,  July  8th,  and  had  expected  to  see  our  build- 
ings well  under  way,  especially  the  big  balloon 
house,  about  which  we  were  most  anxious.  But 
to  our  surprise  and  disappointment,  only  the 
living  house  and  the  machine  shop  had  been 
erected.  Major  Hersey  had  named  the  place 
"Camp  Wellman,"  but  it  was  as  yet  only  the 
beginning  of  a  camp.  Our  men  were  still  living 
in  Pike  House,  and  our  workmen  continued  liv- 


150  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

ing  there.  Next  day  the  staff  members  moved 
into  our  own  house,  doubtless  the  best  house  ever 
put  up  in  the  far  north.  It  has  an  outer  corri- 
dor for  stores,  surrounded  by  double  walls.  The 
enclosure  within  is  lighted  by  overhead  windows, 
and  also  has  double  walls,  with  air-space  between. 
Thus  the  habitation  is  always  warm  and  dry, 
even  in  the  depth  of  the  Arctic  winter — quite 
a  contrast  with  the  damp,  freezing  den  in  which 
we  passed  a  winter  in  Franz  Josef  Land.  There 
is  a  well-equipped  kitchen,  and  a  fine  bath-room 
with  a  porcelain  tub. 

Great  was  my  surprise  upon  arriving  here  to 
see  on  shore  a  little  green  tent  over  which  a 
German  flag  was  flying.  They  told  me  its  oc- 
cupant was  a  Berlin  newspaper  correspondent 
who  had  said  he  knew  me.  In  a  short  time 
Herr  Otto  von  Gottberg,  a  famous  correspond- 
ent representing  the  Berlin  Lokal  Anzeiger, 
came  up  and  greeted  me.  We  were  indeed  old 
friends,  and  had  sat  at  the  same  table  at  Went- 
worth  Hotel,  Portsmouth,  during  the  Russo- 
Japanese  Peace  Conference.  Herr  Von  Gott- 
berg had  been  sent  up  here  to  report  our 
Expedition  for  his  paper,  and  had  chartered  the 
little  Express  steamer,  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Theodore  Lerner,  a  well-known  Arctic 
traveler  and  sportsman,  for  the  voyage.  Herr 
von  Gottberg  was  at  first  very  anxious  lest  I 


"A  SCIENTIFIC  VILLAGE"      151 

should  not  permit  him  to  remain,  having  ab- 
sorbed from  American  papers  the  false  notion 
that  we  were  working  this  Expedition  as  an  ad- 
vertising affair,  and  that  therefore  we  might  not 
wish  the  representatives  of  other  newspapers  to 
be  present  to  get  information.  We  quickly 
informed  him  of  his  error  and  of  the  fact  that  he 
was  welcome  to  stay  as  long  as  he  wished. 

From  now  our  work  was  pushed  with  great 
energy.  The  first  tiling  to  do  was  to  select  a  site 
for  the  big  balloon  house.  The  reader  will  un- 
derstand that  an  airship,  with  its  complicated 
mechanical  adjustments  and  the  long  and  labori- 
ous process  of  inflating  it  with  hydrogen,  must 
be  sheltered  from  wind  and  weather  whilst  it  is 
being  made  ready  for  a  voyage.  Otherwise  it 
would  be  threatened  with  destruction  by  every 
strong  wind  that  came  along.  It  was  not  easy 
to  find  a  good  site  for  so  large  a  house  in  the 
little  bit  of  bare  ground  we  had  at  the  foot  of  the 
hills.  And  the  site  we  decided  upon  had  to  be 
prepared  by  blasting  out  many  feet  of  eternal 
ice,  and  also  great  rocks  as  large  as  small  houses. 
It  was  difficult  work.  Then  the  foundations  had 
to  be  prepared.  For  this  part  of  the  structure 
we  drew  upon  the  timbers  which  remained  of  the 
wreck  of  Andree's  balloon  house,  a  few  hundred 
yards  distant.  Meanwhile  Frithjof  had  to  go 
back  to  Norway  for  a  third  cargo  of  materials. 


152  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  Arctic  summers  are  short.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  get  through  the  ice  and  reach  Spitz- 
foergen  before  the  middle  of  June  in  an  average 
year,  and  one  must  get  away  early  in  September, 
unless  he  wishes  to  run  the  risk  of  being  caught 
for  the  winter  by  the  ice  coming  down  upon  the 
coast.  Spitzbergen  is  most  favorably  situated 
for  a  far  northerly  advance  by  ship  during  the 
summer.  The  prevailing  winds  are  northeast, 
and  to  the  westward  of  the  Archipelago  runs  the 
great  Arctic  current  southward  between  Spitz- 
bergen and  Greenland,  the  chief  outlet  of  the 
Arctic  Sea.  The  ice  fields  have  a  tendency  to 
move  to  the  westward,  and  in  summer  there  is  lit- 
tle ice  on  the  Spitzbergen  coast  and  much  on  the 
Greenland  side.  Usually  ships  not  built  for 
ramming  ice  can  reach  our  headquarters  in  July 
and  August,  and  advantage  of  these  conditions 
is  taken  by  the  managers  of  shipping  companies 
to  send  their  tourists  to  the  real  Arctics.  Eveiy 
year  we  at  our  base  were  visited  by  tourist 
ships,  hundreds  of  visitors  descending  upon  us 
with  their  cameras,  their  autograph  hunting  and 
their  innumerable  questions.  These  tourist  ships 
even  venture  to  run  north  to  the  edge  of  the  ice- 
pack, and  have  been  known  to  pass  the  80th 
parallel,  which  is  farther  north  than  Franklin, 
Kane  and  many  of  the  early  Arctic  explorers 
were  able  to  get  on  the  American  side  of  the 


THE  HYDROGEN  GAS  APPARATUS  AT  CAMP  WELLMAN,  SPITZBERGEN. 


"A  SCIENTIFIC  VILLAGE"      153 

globe,  where  no  such  favorable  conditions  for 
navigation  exist. 

Our  force  of  men  worked  hard  all  summer, 
but  were  unable  to  finish  the  balloon  house  and 
the  other  buildings  in  time  to  make  it  possible 
to  inflate  the  airship  and  get  it  ready  for  a 
voyage.  The  Engineer  Liwenthaal  had  under- 
taken to  complete  the  balloon  house  within  three 
weeks  after  reaching  our  base.  It  was  all  he 
could  do  to  finish  it  in  nine  weeks.  My  experi- 
ence with  engineers  and  constructors  in  charge 
of  the  details  of  operations  has  invariably  been 
that  they  may  be  exceedingly  skillful  so  far  as 
technique  is  concerned,  but  few  of  them  can  form 
any  adequate  idea  either  of  the  time  required  for 
an  operation  or  the  cost  thereof. 

This  balloon  house  was  no  small  job.  It  had 
to  be  built  of  arches  fashioned  on  the  spot,  bent 
and  bolted  together  on  bending  frames.  As 
fast  as  the  arches  were  finished  they  were  raised 
by  means  of  a  huge  pyramid  or  derrick  manned 
by  a  score  of  men.  When  the  arches  were  all 
up  they  were  moved  to  their  proper  places  and 
bridges  or  spans  thrown  across  to  bind  them  to- 
gether. The  whole  was  covered  with  nearly  an 
acre  of  strong  canvas  prepared  in  Norway  for 
the  purpose.  The  structure  was  210  feet  long, 
85  feet  wide  and  85  feet  high.  The  floor  was 
completely  covered  with  boards.  It  would  not 


154  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

have  been  finished  the  first  summer  if  I  had  not, 
in  hopes  of  being  able  to  complete  it  and  get  the 
airship  inflated  and  tested,  taken  the  responsibil- 
ity of  reducing  the  number  of  arches  from  nine 
to  five.  This  weakened  the  structure,  and  got 
us  into  trouble  the  following  summer,  but  at  the 
time  it  seemed  to  be  the  only  thing  to  do. 

When  all  our  work  was  finished  we  had  a  liv- 
ing house,  a  well-equipped  machine  shop,  a  bal- 
loon house,  a  hydrogen  gas  apparatus,  a  boiler 
house,  a  pumping  house,  and  had  upon  the 
ground  nearly  two  hundred  tons  of  gas-making 
material.  The  London  Illustrated  News  called 
it  "Mr.  Wellman's  scientific  village  in  the  Arc- 
tics." Such  it  was,  but  unfortunately  the  sum- 
mer was  at  an  end,  and  it  was  impracticable  to 
go  on  with  the  real  work  in  view,  which  of  course 
was  inflation  of  the  America,  as  our  airship 
was  named,  and  a  voyage  in  her  through  the  air. 
Though  we  had  struggled  with  all  our  strength 
to  get  results  this  first  summer,  and  were  unable 
simply  because  of  the  magnitude  of  the  operation 
and  the  short  season  in  which  the  work  could  be 
carried  on,  in  some  way  an  impression  was 
spread  by  the  yellow  journals  that  we  were  pur- 
posely delaying  the  voyage  which  we  had  come 
up  here  to  make ! 

While  waiting  in  the  vain  hope  that  the  bal- 
loon house  might  be  completed  I  had  put  the  me- 


"A  SCIENTIFIC  VILLAGE"      155 

chanical  staff  to  work  setting  up  the  car  of  the 
airship,  installing  the  motors  and  testing  out  the 
machinery  by  actual  running.  It  was  well  we 
did  so.  And  as  it  turned  out  it  would  have  been 
impossible  to  make  an  airship  voyage  that  year 
even  if  the  buildings  had  been  finished  in  time, 
because  the  mechanical  part  of  the  America  was 
a  failure.  The  motors  could  not  be  made  to 
work  right,  the  driving  gear  went  to  pieces,  and 
the  propellers  could  not  stand  even  half  of  the 
strain  which  it  was  designed  to  put  upon  them. 

During  this  summer  we  were  favored  with 
visits  not  only  from  a  number  of  tourist  ships, 
but  by  the  Prince  of  Monaco.  He  came  to  our 
little  port  with  his  magnificent  yacht,  the  Prin- 
cesse  Alice,  and  spent  several  days  with  us,  hav- 
ing us  out  to  dinner,  and  accepting  the  rude 
hospitality  of  our  house  in  return.  We  found 
the  Prince  a  charming  man,  democratic  and 
companionable.  He  has  done  splendid  work  in 
scientific  exploration  of  the  deep  seas,  in  Spitz- 
bergen  surveys,  and  other  scientific  pursuits. 
He  had  with  him  Prof.  Hergesell,  of  Berlin,  who 
has  done  so  much  in  the  way  of  exploration  of 
the  upper  air  by  means  of  captive  balloons  carry- 
ing recording  instruments,  and  smaller  balloons 
set  free  to  go  to  great  heights  and  also  carrying 
recording  instruments  with  them,  these  being 
usually  recovered  with  their  records  after  the 


156  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

balloons  have  burst  and  descended.  Prof.  Her- 
gesell  made  many  observations  in  our  neighbor- 
hood, and  informed  us  that  if  we  could  send  our 
airship  up  to  an  altitude  of  about  ten  miles  we 
should  find  there  a  wind  blowing  two  hundred 
miles  per  hour  toward  the  Pole,  but  that  the 
temperature  would  be  seventy  to  eighty  below 
zero. 

We  also  enjoyed  the  visit  this  summer  of  a 
Dutch  war  vessel  which  had  been  sent  to  Spitz- 
bergen  by  the  government  of  Holland  instructed 
to  gather  up  the  remains  of  the  Dutch  sailors 
which  had  lain  for  two  centuries  upon  and  near 
to  Smeerenburg,  to  give  the  bones  decent  inter- 
ment, and  to  erect  a  suitable  monument  over  the 
spot.  This  task  the  officers  of  the  vessel  carried 
out  to  the  letter ;  and  thus  all  that  remains  of  the 
whaling  city  of  two  centuries  ago  is  a  huge  com- 
mon grave  and  a  neatly  decorated  and  inscribed 
stone  over  it.  We  found  these  Dutch  officers 
charming  gentlemen,  and  their  visit  made  an 
agreeable  break  in  the  routine  of  our  lives. 

Early  in  September  we  returned  to  Europe, 
resolved  to  renew  the  campaign  the  following 
spring. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    PLAN    OF   THE   VOYAGE 

Before  taking  the  reader  with  me  in  the  two 
following  campaigns  in  the  Arctic  regions,  in 
both  of  which  voyages  were  made  by  airship  out 
over  the  polar  sea,  I  wish  to  tell  you  something 
of  the  plan  itself.  When  the  Expedition  was 
first  made  known  to  the  world  it  was  commended 
by  many  men  of  science,  particularly  by  those 
familiar  with  the  art  of  aeronautics.  Skepticism 
was,  however,  the  dominant  note  among  the  gen- 
eral public,  which  is  always  skeptical  as  to  ven- 
tures and  experiments  which  it  little  under- 
stands. The  prevailing  popular  belief  was  that 
the  scheme  must  be  regarded  as  either  foolishly 
reckless  or  deliberately  dishonest.  In  this  view 
a  considerable  part  of  the  press  joined.  In 
other  words,  this  proposal  to  utilize  the  progress 
of  the  arts  and  sciences  in  doing  useful  work 
was  subject  to  the  same  misunderstanding  and 
injustice  that  ignorance  always  slings  at  pioneer 
endeavorers,  a  noteworthy  and  humiliating  ex- 
ample of  which  was  found  in  the  brutality  which 
a  considerable  part  of  the  American  press  in- 

157 


158  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

flicted  upon  that  noble  friend  of  research  and 
progress,  the  late  Samuel  Pierpont  Langley.  It 
is  well  known  that  Prof.  Langley,  now  honored 
throughout  the  world,  died  of  a  broken  heart 
because  of  the  ridicule  heaped  upon  him  by  the 
newspapers  of  his  own  country. 

Recently,  the  spectacular  success  of  the  air- 
ship of  Count  Zeppelin  in  Germany,  and  less 
sensational  successes  by  other  motor-balloons  in 
various  countries,  accompanied  by  the  triumphs 
of  the  Brothers  Wright  and  others,  both  in 
America  and  Europe,  with  mechanical  flight 
machines,  have  roused  the  whole  world  to  an  in- 
tense interest  in  everything  connected  with  navi- 
gation of  the  air.  Men  who  a  year  or  two  ago 
sneered  at  the  plan  to  reach  the  Xorth  Pole  by 
airship  as  the  dream  of  a  madman,  no\v  look  upon 
that  project  as  wholly  within  the  bounds  of  prac- 
ticability. If  any  vindication  of  the  rationality 
of  the  central  idea  of  our  enterprise  were  needed, 
it  has  been  found  in  the  long  voyages  made  by 
Count  Zeppelin  and  in  the  demonstration  that 
extensive  journeys  in  the  air  have  now  become 
practicable.  No  such  vindication  was  needed  in 
the  eyes  of  men  who  really  understood  all  the 
factors  involved  in  the  problem;  for  they  have 
known  all  along,  for  several  years,  that  the  con- 
struction of  a  motor-balloon  able  to  make  a  voy- 


THE  PLAX  OF  THE  VOYAGE  159 

age  of  1,500  or  2,000  miles  is  simply  a  matter  of 
adaptation  of  means  to  the  end  in  view,  and  of 
the  seizure  of  occasions  not  too  unfavorable  for 
the  actual  achievement. 

As  is  so  often  the  case,  the  general  public,  its 
imagination  stimulated  by  the  daily  press,  has 
rushed  from  one  extreme  to  the  other.  From 
decrying  all  aerial  navigation  as  crazy  experi- 
ments it  has  rushed  to  the  conclusion  that  within 
a  year  or  two  we  shall  have  regular  aerial  express 
ships  carrying  passengers  and  mails  across  the 
continent  at  high  speed  and  with  such  safety  and 
certainty  as  to  assure  the  commercial  success  of 
the  enterprises.  Men  who  know  what  cannot  be 
done  in  aerial  navigation,  as  well  as  what  may  be 
done,  do  not  need  to  be  told  that  the  general 
public  is  as  far  from  a  correct  understanding  in 
its  present  bubbling  optimism  as  it  was  a  short 
time  ago  in  its  equally  undiscriminating  skepti- 
cism. 

Count  Zeppelin  has,  indeed,  expressed  his 
faith  that  a  line  of  commercial  airships  to  ply  be- 
tween German  cities  may  be  established  in  the 
near  future.  Thomas  A.  Edison  has  declared 
that  while  the  present  machines  for  air-naviga- 
tion are  not  practicable  in  the  true  sense,  the 
ultimate  solution  of  the  problem  is  near,  and  that 
then  the  reaching  of  the  North  Pole  and  the 


160  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

crossing  from  America  to  Europe  will  be  very 
simple.  Sir  Hiram  Maxim  predicts  the  revolu- 
tionizing of  all  warfare  by  the  introduction  of 
aerial  battleships  and  cruisers.  Prof.  Simon 
Newcomb,  in  the  Nineteenth  Century,  sharply 
calls  attention  to  the  limitations  which  physical 
laws  have  seemingly  placed  upon  both  types  of 
aerial  craft — lighter  than  air  and  heavier — and 
scouts  the  idea  that  such  ships  can  be  useful  in 
any  important  way  for  the  ordinary  or  commer- 
cial service  of  society,  or  even  for  war.  When 
the  doctors  disagree,  who  shall  decide?  In  later 
chapters  I  shall  give  my  ideas  of  the  future  of 
aerial  navigation. 

For  the  present,  we  are  concerned  with  the 
North  Pole.  The  plan  to  reach  the  Pole  by  air- 
ship was  not  at  all  the  reckless  and  visionary 
project  uninformed  critics  have  chosen  to  call  it. 
We  may  say  the  task  was  a  difficult  one — as  was 
reaching  the  Pole  by  any  means — but  not  impos- 
sible. 

In  our  airship  an  effort  had  been  made  to 
secure  the  highest  degree  of  adaptability  in  size, 
form,  method,  speed,  power,  endurance,  safety, 
in  every  mechanical  detail. 

The  most  striking  difference  between  our  ship 
and  the  ships  built  by  Zeppelin  and  others  lies 
in  the  fact  that  the  latter  were  designed  for 


THE  PLAN  OF  THE  VOYAGE  161 

high  speed  for  relatively  short  voyages,  while 
ours  was  planned  for  lower  speed  and  a  longer 
voyage. 

In  settling  upon  the  most  effective  and  eco- 
nomical speed,  all  things  considered,  exhaustive 
analysis  was  made  of  the  winds  in  the  Arctic 
Ocean.  As  to  those  winds  nothing  whatever  can 
be  predicated  upon  the  direction  in  which  they  are 
likely  to  blow  at  any  given  moment.  Much  may 
be  predicated  upon  their  minimum,  mean,  and 
maximum  velocity.  The  factors  of  the  problem 
which  we  had  to  work  out  were :  1.  The  distance 
to  be  traveled.  2.  The  probable  winds  to  be  en- 
countered. 

It  happens  that  we  have  a  great  deal  of 
knowledge  of  the  winds  of  the  Arctic  Ocean. 
The  Fram,  Dr.  Nansen's  ship,  was  three  years 
in  drifting  through  the  polar  sea,  from  north 
of  Siberia  to  Dane's  Island,  Spitzbergen.  Dur- 
ing all  that  time  careful  observations  were  made 
of  all  meteorological  phenomena,  and  these 
records  of  temperatures  and  winds  I  thoroughly 
analyzed  before  embarking  upon  the  airship  en- 
terprise. I  found  that  in  the  months  of  July 
and  August  the  mean  of  wind  probabilities  for 
any  given  period  of  10  days,  or  240  hours,  was 
as  follows : 


162  THE  AERIAL  AGE 


AVERAGE  FORCE 

NUMBER  OF  WIND,  MILES 

OF  HOURS  PER  HOUR 


10  

0 

15      

4 

40  

6 

50 

7 

25  

9 

25  

11 

30  

12 

25  

14 

15   

17 

5  . 

24 

240  (Average)    10 

Inasmuch  as  there  were  likely  to  be  some 
winds  so  strong  (30  to  35  miles  per  hour)  that 
an  airship  could  not  make  headway  against 
them,  and  inasmuch  as  most  of  the  winds  were 
of  small  force,  it  was  deemed  prudent  not  to 
try  for  high  speed.  This  seemed  to  be  a  wise 
decision  in  view  of  the  further  facts  that  high 
speed  is  very  costly  in  the  way  of  fuel  consumption 
per  mile,  and  also  because  it  involves  other  diffi- 
culties in  airship  construction  and  operation. 

The  distance  from  our  headquarters  in  Spitz- 
bergen  to  the  Pole  being  700  statute  miles,  it  was 
deemed  prudent  to  build  a  ship  theoretically  able 
to  travel  at  least  three  times  that  distance.  We 


THE  PLAN  OF  THE  VOYAGE  163 

found  we  could  carry,  after  everything  else  neces- 
sary had  been  put  aboard,  about  6,000  pounds, 
or  three  tons,  of  gasoline  for  the  motor.  If  we 
were  to  attempt  a  speed  of  thirty  miles  per  hour, 
equal  to  the  highest  velocity  of  the  winds  likely 
to  be  encountered,  we  should  need  an  engine  of 
250  horsepower.  The  fuel  consumption  of  such 
an  engine  would  be  175  pounds  per  hour.  With 
6,000  pounds  of  fuel  we  could  run  about  thirty- 
four  hours,  or  a  total  of  1,000  miles,  not  equal 
to  the  distance  from  our  base  to  the  Pole  and 
return.  But  if  we  were  to  reduce  the  speed  to 
eighteen  miles  an  hour  that  could  be  attained 
with  an  engine  of  seventy  horsepower,  a  fuel 
consumption  of  less  than  fifty  pounds  per  hour, 
and  at  this  rate  6,000  pounds  of  gasoline  would 
give  us  120  hours  of  motoring,  or  a  radius  of 
action  of  more  than  2,100  miles. 

It  was  also  found  that  in  some  respects  the 
Arctic  regions  presented  a  field  less  favorable 
for  the  operations  of  an  airship  than  the  tem- 
perate zones,  but  in  other  respects  more  favor- 
able. Conspicuous  among  the  first,  of  course,  is 
the  fact  that  if  the  voyage  should  for  any  reason 
be  interrupted,  the  crew  must  descend  upon  the 
ice-fields  which  cover  the  polar  ocean,  where  they 
would  find  neither  food  nor  help;  and  repairs 
beyond  what  they  could  themselves  make  in  the 
air  would  be  out  of  the  question. 


164  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

But  apart  from  these  inconveniences,  and  per- 
haps we  should  say  these  extra  hazards  to  the 
crew,  the  Arctic  regions  are  favorable  to  aero- 
nautics in  important  ways. 

Chief  among  these  is  the  equability  of  the  tem- 
perature. The  cold  itself  is  not  a  problem,  be- 
cause the  temperature  in  July  and  August  (the 
only  months  in  which  such  a  venture  is  practi- 
cable) rarely  falls  more  than  3  or  4  degrees 
Fahrenheit  below  freezing.  Nor  is  there,  as 
many  also  suppose,  an  obstacle  to  be  met  in  the 
power  of  the  cold  to  condense  the  gas  and  dimin- 
ish its  lifting  power.  It  is  the  variability  of 
temperature  which  exhausts  the  vitality  of  a  gas- 
buoyed  airship. 

In  Europe  or  America  there  is  always  the  al- 
ternating day  and  night,  with  high  temperatures 
at  midday,  low  temperatures  at  midnight  or> 
after.  The  difference  between  the  two,  within 
twenty-four  hours,  is  often  30  to  40  degrees 
Fahrenheit.  A  change  of  20  degrees  Fahren- 
heit in  the  temperature  of  the  air  changes  the 
lifting  power  of  a  ship  like  the  America  about 
1,000  pounds. 

Again,  what  is  known  as  the  guide-rope 
method,  but  for  which  "equilibrator"  is  a  better 
word,  cannot  be  used  save  on  rare  occasions,  in 
settled  countries,  and  may  be  used  whenever 
necessary  in  the  Arctic  regions,  where  there  are 


THE  PLAN  OF  THE  VOYAGE  165 

no  forests,  buildings,  electric  wires  or  other  ob- 
stuctions  in  the  way. 

The  Zeppelin  had  no  equilibrator ;  the  Amer- 
ica was  fitted  with  one  weighing  1,200  pounds, 
when  packed,  ready  for  use  whenever  necessary 
to  deposit  a  part  of  that  weight  upon  the  surface 
of  the  earth,  to  keep  the  ship  from  descending 
and  to  avoid  the  throwing  overboard  of  ballast 
to  accomplish  the  same  purpose.  A  guide  rope 
or  equilibrator  is  simply  ballast  which  may  be 
used  without  losing  it. 

Our  equilibrator  was  the  much-talked  of 
"stuffed  serpent"  or  "sausage,"  a  long  steel- 
scaled  cylinder  of  leather,  water-tight,  buoyant 
in  water,  and  seventy-five  per  cent,  of  its  whole 
weight  made  up  of  reserve  food  for  the  crew. 

Thus  we  see  in  summary  that  in  the  polar 
regions  we  escape  the  greater  part  of  the  evil 
which  afflicts  aerostats  in  the  temperate  zones- 
loss  of  vitality  through  alternating  expansions 
and  contractions  of  the  gas — and  in  the  north  we 
are  able  to  employ  a  simple  device  for  minimiz- 
ing what  difficulty  there  is  from  this  source. 
The  difference  is  a  very  great  one. 

If  the  America  were  to  set  out  for  a  prolonged 
voyage  in  the  United  States  or  Europe  the  fol- 
lowing may  be  taken  as  an  average  experience: 

Start  Monday  afternoon  with  air  temperature 
60  degrees.  During  the  night  this  temperature 


166  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

falls  to  35  degrees.  Loss  of  lifting  force,  and 
ballast  to  be  thrown  overboard,  1,000  pounds. 
At  3  P.M.  Tuesday  the  air  temperature  rises  to 
65,  and  the  temperature  of  the  gas  in  the  areo- 
stat,  on  the  principle  of  absorption  of  heat  which 
always  operates  in  balloons,  to  85  degrees. 
There  is  at  this  time  a  corresponding  loss  of  gas 
due  to  expansion,  but  no  loss  of  lifting  force  or 
ballast.  That  loss  comes  with  redoubled  inten- 
sity the  second  night,  when  the  air  temperature 
again  falls  to  35  degrees,  and  the  gas  gradually 
cools  to  that  level,  resulting  in  a  loss  of  50  de- 
grees Fahrenheit,  or  about  one-tenth  of  the  entire 
lifting  force  in  a  few  hours:  Ballast  to  be 
thrown  overboard,  2,000  pounds.  It  is  obvious 
it  wrould  be  impossible,  under  such  conditions,  to 
prolong  the  voyage  more  than  two  days  and 
nights,  because  the  exhaustion  of  buoyant  force 
by  these  temperature  changes  would  require  the 
carrying  of  so  much  ballast  as  to  leave  little  room 
for  the  carrying  of  fuel,  and  it  is  the  fuel  supply, 
of  course,  which  gives  the  radius  of  action. 

If  the  America  were  to  set  out  upon  a  voyage 
from  our  base  in  Spitzbergen,  with  air  tempera- 
ture 32  degrees,  during  the  next  24  hours  the 
greatest  rise  or  fall  of  temperature  would  be  10 
degrees  Fahrenheit,  involving  a  loss  of  400 
pounds  of  lifting  force.  If  the  lightening  of  the 
cargo  by  fuel  consumption  of  the  motor  were  not 


THE  PLAN  OF  THE  VOYAGE  167 

sufficient  to  compensate  this  loss,  as  much  of  the 
weight  of  the  equilibrator  as  might  be  necessary 
could  at  any  time  be  permitted  to  drag  upon  the 
surface  of  the  earth.  It  might  happen,  at  any 
time,  that  during  an  interval  of  bright  sunshine 
the  gas  absorbed  radiant  heat  and  reached  a 
temperature  20  degrees  higher  than  that  of  the 
surrounding  air,  and  that  the  rapid  cooling  of 
the  gas,  due  to  clouds  or  snowstorm,  might  in- 
volve a  rapid  loss  of  30  degrees  or  1,200  pounds 
of  buoyancy.  But  in  such  case,  instead  of  wast- 
ing ballast,  the  equilibrator  is  ready  to  be  used 
in  full  compensation.  It  will  be  seen  that  the 
equilibrator  is  merely  ballast  which  can  be  used 
over  and  over  again  without  throwing  it  away. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    CAMPAIGN    OF    1907 

Returning  to  Paris  in  the  autumn  it  was  with 
the  determination  to  enlarge  and  improve  the 
America  for  the  campaign  of  1907.  To  make 
sure  that  the  envelope  of  the  balloon  was  still 
in  good  condition,  I  had  it  inflated  with  ordinary 
coal  gas  in  the  Galerie  des  Machines  of  the  old 
Exposition  Buildings.  That  fall  the  James 
Gordon  Bennett  balloon  race  cup  was  won  by 
Lieut.  Lahm  of  the  American  Army,  with 
Major  Hersey  as  his  aide,  they  making  a  fine 
voyage  from  Paris  almost  to  the  coast  of  Scot- 
land. Through  Lieut.  Lahm's  father,  F.  S. 
Lahm,  I  was  able  to  employ  as  chief  mechanic 
in  rebuilding  the  airship,  Melvin  Vaniman,  an 
American  who  had  been  associated  with  Mr. 
Lahm  in  aeroplane  experimentation.  Vaniman 
proved  to  be  a  splendid  mechanic,  and  for  the 
first  time  I  felt  that  I  could  prepare  designs 
and  make  plans  with  a  reasonable  degree  of  cer- 
tainty that  they  would  be  executed. 

Vaniman  himself  suggested  the  idea  of  the  V-- 
shaped car  of  steel  tubing  and  solid  wire  stays2 

168 


THE  CAMPAIGN  OF  1907        169 

and  I  added  the  plan  of  making  the  backbone 
or  apex  of  this  car  a  long,  staunch  steel  reservoir 
for  holding  the  gasoline  to  be  carried  on  the  trip. 
The  car  as  thus  perfected  proved  to  be  a  me- 
chanical and  practical  success,  and  we  have  held 
to  that  design  in  all  our  work.  The  balloon 
was  lengthened  from  165  to  185  feet,  adding 
nearly  2000  pounds  to  the  lifting  force,  and 
bringing  the  total  lift  of  the  America  up  to 
nearly  19,000  pounds.  The  steel  car  suspended 
by  steel  suspension  cables  underneath  was  115 
feet  in  length,  and  12  feet  in  width  at  the  top, 
the  whole  being  enclosed  with  oiled  silk,  making 
a  long  and  roomy  cabin.  Many  other  improve- 
ments were  added;  and  to  familiarize  myself 
with  work  in  the  air  I  renewed  the  voyages  in 
free  balloons  which  I  had  begun  the  previous 
spring,  greatly  enjoying  the  trips  over  beautiful 
France — and  if  you  want  to  realize  how  truly 
beautiful  rural  France  is,  see  it  from  a  balloon 
sailing  along  at  an  altitude  of  two  or  three  thou- 
sand feet.  Ballooning  is  a  most  delightful 
sport,  being  free  from  the  nerve-racking  vibra- 
tion and  anxiety  which  one  feels  in  a  motor- 
driven  ship. 

On  one  of  these  balloon  trips,  Mr.  F.  S.  Lahm 
being  the  pilot,  we  encountered  a  wind  and  rain- 
storm while  over  the  Seine,  just  after  we  had 
started,  and  for  a  time  it  looked  as  if  we  wrere 


170  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

going  to  get  a  ducking  in  the  river  or  be  dashed 
against  the  buildings  which  lined  its  banks.  But 
with  extraordinary  skill  Mr,  Lahm  managed  to 
make  a  safe  descent  in  the  yard  of  a  stone  mason 
—a  yard  where  there  was  just  space  enough  be- 
tween the  walls  for  the  balloon  to  come  down. 

In  June,  1907,  we  were  on  our  way  north 
again,  and  at  Tromso  once  more  embarked  upon 
the  old  Frithjof,  all  arrangements  having  been 
made  for  us  by  our  agent,  Consul  Andreas 
Aagaard,  who  has  been  my  business  representa- 
tive in  Norway  in  five  Arctic  campaigns;  and 
a  man  of  most  excellent  business  judgment  he 
is,  as  well  as  a  delightful  companion  and  faith- 
ful friend. 

Arriving  at  Camp  Wellman  late  in  June  we 
found  all  well.  Felix  Riesenberg,  Paul  Bjoer- 
vig  and  Morton  Oliasen  had  passed  a  comforta- 
ble winter.  Groundless  proved  our  fears  that 
the  framework  of  the  balloon  house  had  been 
destroyed  by  gales.  With  an  early  start,  we 
felf  sure  of  being  able  to  get  the  America  ready 
for  her  trial  voyage  in  the  latter  part  of  July. 
This  expectation  would  have  been  realized  had 
not  the  summer  proved  to  be  the  stormiest  known 
in  Spitzbergen  for  thirty  years,  according  to  the 
testimony  of  the  masters  of  sealing  vessels  which 
go  every  midsummer  to  those  waters.  July  4th 
the  balloon  house  was  partly  wrecked  by  a  gale, 


THE  CAMPAIGN  OF  1907        171 

and  for  four  weeks  we  struggled  to  save  the  re- 
mainder of  the  structure  from  destruction — a 
struggle  which  whitened  the  hair  of  more  than 
one  of  us.  For  weeks  I  tried  to  sleep  where 
my  anxious  ears  could  hear  the  ticking  of  a 
registering  apparatus  electrically  connected 
with  the  anemometer  outside,  and  unfortunately 
learned  to  know  the  velocity  of  the  wind  by 
counting  the  ticks.  When  the  ticks  came  faster 
and  faster,  indicating  stronger  winds,  my  nerves 
could  stand  it  no  longer.  Out  of  bed  I  jumped, 
and  ran  to  see  if  the  precious  balloon  house  was 
still  standing,  often  finding  it  necessary  to  sum- 
mon the  entire  force  to  renew  the  fight.  Thus 
it  went  night  after  night  and  week  after  week. 

But  at  last,  near  the  middle  of  August,  the 
America  was  ready  for  her  first  voyage  in  the 
air.  Then  ensued  a  long  wait  while  gale 
after  gale  swept  over  the  islands.  We  were 
impatient  to  be  off.  The  big  ship  also  seemed 
eager  to  try  her  wings  in  the  element  for  which 
she  had  been  designed,  as  she  constantly  strained 
at  her  leashes  and  set  up  such  violent  swaying 
to  and  fro  under  the  influence  of  the  air  currents 
which  crept  in  the  cracks  of  the  building  that  at 
times  we  doubted  our  ability  to  hold  her  fast, 
even  with  the  strong  cables  with  which  she  was 
secured. 

The   America   as    she    stands    is    the    second 


172  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

largest  airship  in  the  world,  second  in  size  only 
to  the  Zeppelin.  She  is  twice  the  size  of  the 
excellent  ships  built  by  the  Engineer  Julliot  for 
the  French  army — La  Paine  and  La  Re  pub  - 
lique — and  thirteen  times  larger  than  the  Bald- 
win ship  purchased  by  the  United  States  govern- 
ment. The  America  is  185  feet  in  length; 
greatest  diameter,  52  feet;  volume,  258,500 
cubic  feet;  total  lifting  force,  at  sea  level,  19,000 
pounds;  weight  of  triple-tissue,  caoutchouc- 
coated  balloon-envelope,  3,600  pounds;  weight 
of  steel  car,  115  feet  long,  and  containing  a  steel 
gasoline  reservoir  of  like  length,  18  inches  in 
diameter,  and  capacity  of  1,200  gallons,  8,500 
pounds.  Engine,  Lorraine-Dietrich  70-80 
horsepower,  driving  two  steel  screws  each  11  feet 
in  diameter.  Aboard  also  were  ten  sledge-dogs, 
sledges,  small  boat,  all  the  accoutrements  of  a 
sledging  party,  provisions  for  the  crew  for  10 
months,  repair  tools  and  materials,  250  pounds 
of  lubricant,  300  pounds  of  fresh  water,  and 
5,750  pounds  of  gasoline  for  the  engine. 

While  waiting  for  favorable  weather  for  a 
trial  trip  and  start,  I  wrote  the  following  mem- 
oranda on  the  plan  of  the  voyage : 

"To  achieve  success  it  is  only  necessary  for  the 
America  to  carry  us  somewhere  near  to  the  Pole, 
because,  as  already  explained,  we  go  prepared 
to  do  the  remainder  of  the  work  and  the  return 


THE  CAMPAIGN  OF  1907        173 

journey  by  sledging.  The  America  can  pro- 
ceed with  her  engines  for  120  hours  at  a  rate  of 
18  miles  per  hour.  The  average  wind  of  the 
polar  ocean  in  July  and  August  is  10  miles  an 
hour.  If  we  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  have  a 
wind  of  average  force  blowing  directly  contrary 
to  our  course  throughout  the  whole  time,  we 
could  still  make  headway  at  the  rate  of  eight 
miles  per  hour  for  120  hours,  or  a  total  of  960 
miles.  The  distance  from  our  headquarters  to 
the  Pole  is  717  miles  (statute). 

"Assuming  the  Pole  once  attained,  and  the 
fuel  supply  exhausted,  there  is  every  reason  to 
believe  the  America  could  remain  in  the  air,  us- 
ing her  equilibrator,  several  days  longer;  and  in 
that  time  there  is  a  large  chance  that  the  winds 
would  carry  her,  as  a  free  or  drifting  balloon, 
far  toward  or  perhaps  to  some  land,  and  any 
land  would  mean  safety  for  the  crew. 

"Should  this  alternative  fail,  we  have  not  put 
all  our  eggs  in  one  basket,  nor  in  two  baskets, 
for  there  is  the  third  recourse,  already  spoken  of 
—sledging  our  way  out;  and,  as  shown,  we  go 
prepared  not  only  for  the  summer  and  autumn, 
but  with  provisions  enough  to  enable  us  to  re' 
main  out,  in  case  of  need,  the  entire  winter, 
sledging  back  the  following  spring,  which  is  the 
most  favorable  season  for  Arctic  travel." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

FIRST  AIRSHIP  VOYAGE  OVER   THE   POLAR   SEA 

Because  of  the  unfavorable  weather,  it  was 
not  till  September  2,  1907,  that  we  could  get  a 
chance  to  take  the  America  out  for  her  trial  trip. 
That  was  too  late  in  the  season  to  start  for  the 
Pole,  as  winter  was  approaching;  and  yet  we 
were  determined  to  start  should  the  conditions 
be  fair  and  the  ship  work  right.  There  were 
only  three  of  us  in  the  crew.  Our  force  of  men 
led  the  big  ship  out  of  the  balloon  house,  and 
at  the  word  of  command  they  let  her  go  high  up 
in  the  air.  Still  she  was  not  free.  A  tow-line 
was  attached  to  the  Express,  a  small  steamer 
which  had  brought  to  our  headquarters  Prof. 
Elias  and  a  party  of  German  officers  sent  out 
to  study  our  craft.  The  Express  towed  us  out 
around  Smeerenburg  point,  and  there,  though 
the  weather  was  anything  but  good,  I  gave  the 
order  to  cut  the  tow-line.  This  was  soon  done, 
and  the  airship  was  at  last  thrown  upon  her  own 
resources. 

The  engine  was  started,  and  the  America 
leaped  forward.  With  a  thrill  of  joy  we  of  the 

174 


OVER  THE  POLAR  SEA         175 

crew  felt  her  moving  through  the  air.  Look- 
ing down  from  our  lofty  perch,  we  could  see 
the  equilibrator  swimming  along  in  the  water, 
its  head  in  the  air,  much  like  a  great  sea-serpent. 
We  soon  ran  away  from  the  steamer,  and  could 
hear  the  men  upon  her  cheering  us  as  we  lost 
sight  of  her.  Soon  the  wind  freshened  from  the 
northwest,  accompanied  by  snow.  We  were  in 
danger  of  being  driven  upon  the  mountainous 
coast,  which  would  mean  the  destruction  of  the 
ship  and  probably  the  loss  of  our  lives  as  the 
steel  car  went  tumbling  down  the  cliffs  into 
the  sea. 

Everything  depended  upon  the  engine.  Vani- 
man  kept  it  running,  and  increased  its  effective 
output  as  the  danger  of  shipwreck  became  most 
pressing.  Inch  by  inch  we  fought  our  way  past 
the  mountains,  one  after  another,  clearing  the 
last  by  only  a  few  rods.  The  open  Arctic  Ocean 
was  before  us ;  and  well  satisfied  with  the  working 
of  engine  and  ship  up  to  this  time,  it  was  with 
great  satisfaction  I  gave  the  order  to  Riesen- 
berg  at  the  wheel  to  "head  her  north!"  We 
should  have  a  try  at  it,  at  least. 

But  we  had  not  run  far  before  the  snow* 
squall  increased  in  violence.  Just  then  we 
learned  our  compass  had  been  deranged  by  an 
accident.  The  air  was  so  thick  with  flying  snow 
we  could  not  see  the  mountains,  and  were  lost 


176  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

in  a  snowstorm  threatening  to  drive  us  to  de- 
struction upon  a  lee  coast.  Three  times  we 
came  up  so  near  the  mountains,  looming  sud- 
denly ahead  out  of  the  thick  air,  that  we  thought 
all  was  over,  but  each  time  the  motor  and  pro- 
peller brought  us  round  to  temporary  safety,  with 
the  helm  thrown  hard  over. 

At  last,  after  some  two  hours  of  this,  during 
which  we  must  have  covered  35  miles,  we  realized 
there  was  but  one  thing  to  do,  and  that  was  to 
try  to  land  the  ship  where  she  could  be  saved. 
In  a  momentary  break  in  the  thickness  of  the 
weather  we  saw  before  us  a  glacier — a  mass  of 
ice  filling  a  valley  between  two  mountains— 
and  decided  to  make  an  effort  to  bring  the 
America  down  upon  its  smooth  surface. 

But  before  we  could  descend  upon  the  glacier 
we  must  drag  our  equilibrator,  and  also  the 
retarder  (which  we  had  now  let  down  into  the 
sea)  up  the  face  of  the  great  ice-wall — a  vertical 
cliff  of  ragged,  rugged  ice  rising  nearly  100  feet 
sheer  from  the  sea.  Was  it  possible  for  our  ser- 
pents to  climb  this  frightful  barrier?  We 
should  soon  see,  for  now  the  wind  was  driving 
us  straight  toward  the  frightful  precipice.  As 
the  America  swept  over  the  glacier  the  two  ser- 
pents crawled  up  the  wall  without  getting  foul 
and  apparently  without  injury.  Arriving  at 
the  top,  they  wound  between  and  around  giant 


PART  OF  CAR  AND  ONE  OF  THE  MOTORS  —  1909. 


OVER  THE  POLAR  SEA         177 

rocks  of  the  moraine.  As  we  moved  inland 
the  serpents  fell  into  deep  crevasses  in  the  ice, 
and  then  crept  out  again. 

Finally,  by  pulling  the  valve-cord  and  letting 
out  gas  we  brought  the  airship  down  near  to  the 
surface  of  the  glacier.  At  the  right  moment 
the  ripping  knife  was  run  into  the  sides  of  the 
huge  envelope  overhead,  the  gas  rushed  out, 
with  a  sigh  the  America  gave  up  her  life-breath, 
and  settled  down  upon  the  ice.  The  descent 
was  made  so  gently  that  our  clockwork  register- 
ing instruments  ran  right  along  as  if  nothing 
had  happened.  As  we  stepped  out  of  the  car 
the  cloth  of  the  balloon  lay  in  a  great  heap 
alongside,  and  we  saw  that  the  America  lay 
across  two  crevasses.  And  there,  still  attached 
to  the  ship,  were  the  two  serpents,  virtually  un- 
injured after  their  rough  experience. 

In  a  few  hours  the  Express  and  the  Frithjof 
overtook  us.  Their  crews  came  up  to  help  us, 
roped  together  Alpine-fashion  as  they  made  their 
way  across  the  treacherous  crevasses.  A  force  of 
workmen  were  brought  from  camp,  and  in  three 
days  we  had  all  the  valuable  part  of  the  air- 
ship back  at  our  headquarters,  after  a  most  re- 
markable adventure. 

At  the  moment  we  felt  bitter  because  wTe  had 
not  been  able  to  continue  our  voyage  northward 
toward  the  Pole;  but  afterward,  noting  that  the 


178  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

wind  continued  to  blow  from  the  northwest  and 
north  for  several  days,  we  realized  that  even  if 
we  had  got  farther  from  land  we  could  never 
have  made  a  long  voyage.  We  had  no  chance 
at -all;  and  we  were  pretty  lucky  to  get  out  of 
it  as  well  as  we  did. 

We  had,  however,  had  a  trial  of  the  ship.  She 
had  traveled  about  thirty-five  miles  through  the 
air,  including  her  evolutions  along  the  coast. 
We  knew  now  what  the  America  could  do  and 
could  not  do.  Also,  we  had  tested  our  equili- 
brating and  retarding,  devices.  The  first  of 
these  is  the  old  principle  of  the  guide  rope,  used 
for  many  years  in  ordinary  spherical  ballooning. 
An  airship's  lifting  force  is  constantly  changing, 
due  to  expansion  or  contraction  of  gas  as  the 
temperature  goes  up  or  down,  or  the  pressure  of 
the  air  fluctuates. 

The  usual  way  of  meeting  these  changes  of 
lifting  force  is  by  throwing  out  ballast  to  pre- 
vent too  great  descent  and  by  letting  out  gas  to 
prevent  going  too  high.  The  guide  rope  is 
ballast  which  can  be  used  both  ways  without  los- 
ing it.  That  is  to  say,  a  part  of  its  weight  being 
carried  in  the  air,  upon  the  lifting  force  of  the 
balloon,  and  a  part  on  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
we  have  this  effect:  If  the  balloon  goes  up  a 
few  yards  it  must  lift  that  length  of  guide-rope 


OVER  THE  POLAR  SEA         179 

from  the  earth,  adding  so  much  to  the  load  car- 
ried, and  thus  checking  the  ascent. 

Conversely,  if  the  balloon  goes  down  a  few 
yards  it  deposits  that  much  more  of  the  guide 
rope  upon  the  earth,  and  thus  lightens  the  load 
carried  and  checks  the  descent.  The  guide  rope 
is,  within  the  limits  of  its  effectiveness,  an  auto- 
matic control  of  upward  and  downward  move- 
ments of  the  aerostat. 

Our  equilibrator  was  simply  a  development 
and  perfection  of  the  old  guide  rope  principle. 
We  needed  in  the  guide  rope  a  total  weight  of 
about  1,200  pounds,  and  not  wishing  to  take  all 
of  this  weight  in  dead  material  like  hemp  or  steel, 
and  very  much  wishing  to  carry  all  possible  food 
and  other  vital  supplies,  we  worked  the  problem 
out  this  way.  We  made  a  strong  cylinder  of 
leather  about  eight  inches  in  diameter  and  120 
feet  long;  divided  it  into  thirty  compartments; 
stuffed  the  interior  with  reserve  food,  so  that  the 
total  weight  was  seventy-five  per  cent,  provi- 
sions and  twenty-five  per  cent,  leather  and  other 
materials;  and  to  protect  the  leather  from  wear 
and  tear  on  the  ice,  covered  the  entire  reservoir 
with  thousands  of  thin  steel  scales  about  as  big 
as  a  silver  half  dollar,  all  riveted  on,  each  lapping 
the  other  very  much  as  the  scales  of  a  fish  are 
placed  by  nature. 


180  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  retarder  was  built  much  in  the  same  way, 
of  leather  stuffed  with  food,  but  for  a  different 
purpose.  It  would  be  practicable  to  use  an  ice 
anchor  and  firmly  anchor  the  airship  to  the 
ice  floes,  there  to  ride  during  head  winds  instead 
of  drifting  backward  on  the  course.  But  there 
was  danger,  with  fast  anchorage,  that  the  strain 
on  the  ship  might  lead  to  breakage  or  accident. 

So  we  compromised.  Instead  of  the  fast  an- 
chorage we  adopted  the  old  principle  of  the  drag 
anchor,  used  for  centuries  by  sailing  vessels  in 
strong  head  winds,  and  made  a  leather  serpent 
covered  with  thousands  of  short,  sharp  steel 
points  to  scratch  upon  the  surface  of  the  ice  or 
snow  as  it  was  dragged  along  over  the  ice-fields, 
and  by  making  a  certain  resistance  check  the 
drift  of  the  airship  in  head  winds,  thus  greatly 
reducing  the  distance  lost,  without  incurring  the 
dangers  incident  to  firm  anchorage.  The  equili- 
brator  or  guide  rope,  with  its  smooth  steel  scales, 
was  designed  to  make  the  smallest  possible  re- 
sistance ;  the  retarder,  on  the  other  hand,  with  its 
steel  scratchers,  to  make  the  greatest  resistance 
its  weight  could  effect  as  it  was  dragged  along 
in  contrary  winds. 

Both  of  these  devices  we  severely  tested  this 
day  and  found  strong  and  serviceable.  Thus 
our  short  trial  trip  in  the  snowstorm,  and  the 
descent  upon  the  glacier,  was  of  the  greatest 


OVER  THE  POLAR  SEA         181 

value  in  teaching  lessons  for  the  future.  The 
season  being  at  an  end,  and  winter  setting  in,  the 
America  was  returned  to  Paris,  there  to  be  over- 
hauled and  improved  for  the  next  campaign. 
We  had  no  idea  of  giving  up  the  fight. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SECOND  AIRSHIP  VOYAGE   IN   THE  ARCTICS 

In  1908  it  was  my  duty  to  remain  in  the 
United  States,  representing  my  newspaper  in 
the  Presidential  campaign  of  that  year.  But  in 
1909,  having  secured  the  necessary  capital  from 
among  my  friends,  and  Mr.  Lawson  having 
generously  given  me  the  use  of  the  airship  and 
all  the  Expedition  property,  without  charge,  I 
prepared  for  another  aerial  onslaught  upon  the 
Pole.  How  much  trouble  I  could  have  saved 
myself  if  I  had  only  known  that  Peary  had 
reached  the  Pole  before  I  sailed  from  America! 

Vaniman  was  with  me  again.  We  had  added 
another  engine  and  another  pair  of  propellers  to 
the  motive  force  of  the  airship.  The  old  Frith- 
jof  having  been  lost,  with  all  of  her  crew  but 
one  man,  the  previous  fall,  after  she  had  left  our 
sendee,  on  the  coast  of  Iceland,  Consul  Aagaard 
this  year  hired  for  me  a  new  motor  schooner,  the 
Arctic.  She  was  not  a  successful  ship,  very 
slow  and  uncertain.  Again  it  was  necessary  to 
make  two  voyages.  My  brother  Arthur  went 
out  in  charge  of  the  first  trip,  and  with  a  poor 

182 


SECOND  VOYAGE  183 

ship  and  bad  ice  nothing  but  his  resoluteness  and 
courage  enabled  him  to  reach  our  camp  at  alL 
The  skipper  wanted  to  turn  back  to  Norway,  but 
my  brother  said: 

"No,  never.  Walter  ordered  me  to  go  to 
Camp  Wellman,  and  to  Camp  Wellman  we  are 
going,  if  it  takes  all  summer." 

Finally  they  managed  to  break  through  the 
ice,  and  bad  news  awaited  them.  There  was 
brave  old  Paul  Bjoervig,  alone  with  the  dogs! 
Again  the  fates  had  played  him  a  cruel  trick. 
He  and  his  comrade  were  out  hunting  on  the 
sea-ice  one  day  during  the  winter,  when  an  ice- 
cake  turned  turtle,  a  man  fell  into  the  icy  sea, 
and  was  lost.  Once  more  Bjoervig  was  the  sole 
survivor  of  an  Arctic  wintering  party. 

Worse  still,  from  the  Expedition  point  of 
view,  was  the  ruin  of  the  balloon  house.  During 
the  winter  it  had  been  completely  destroyed  in 
severe  storms.  All  that  remained  was  a  tangled 
mass  of  broken  timbers,  buried  under  moun- 
tains of  snow.  It  looked  like  a  hopeless  task 
indeed,  that  of  clearing  away  the  wreck  and 
building  a  new  house  and  getting  the  ship  as- 
sembled, inflated,  and  making  a  voyage  during 
one  short  Arctic  summer.  But  our  men  went 
at  it.  Fortunately  I  had  sent  up  a  cargo  of 
timber  and  other  building  materials,  fearing 
some  such  disaster  might  have  befallen  us. 


184  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

When  Vaniman  and  I  arrived,  three  weeks  later, 
the  Arctic  having  gone  back  to  Tromso  to  fetch 
us,  the  wreck  had  been  cleared,  and  my  brother 
had  his  force  working  night  and  day  building 
and  erecting  new  arches. 

Spurred  on  by  promises  of  extra  pay,  and 
favored  by  good  weather,  our  force  of  twenty 
mechanics  rebuilt  the  huge  structure  with  amaz- 
ing rapidity — much  more  expeditiously  than  a 
similar  house  was  built  at  Atlantic  City  in  the 
summer  of  1910,  though  there  the  contractor  had 
unlimited  resources  of  men  and  materials  to 
draw  upon.  Between  the  first  of  July  and  the 
middle  of  August  the  hangar  or  airship  hall  was 
finished,  the  America  inflated  and  put  in  order, 
and  everything  made  ready  for  the  voyage.  The 
new  ship  was  larger  and  stronger  than  ever  be- 
fore, equipped  with  two  complete  motors  and 
driving  systems  instead  of  one.  Again  we  car- 
ried dogs,  sledges,  small  boat,  and  enough  provi- 
sions and  fuel  to  enable  the  crew  to  stay  out  the 
whole  winter,  in  case  of  need,  making  a  comfor- 
table camp  on  the  ice  with  the  thousands  of 
square  yards  of  cloth  of  the  balloon,  and  sledging 
back  the  following  spring,  the  only  season  in 
which  travel  with  sledges  is  fairly  practicable 
over  the  Arctic  sea-ice. 

August  15, 1909,  we  started  on  the  second  voy- 
age the  America  had  made  over  the  polar  sea. 


II 


SECOND  VOYAGE  185 

In  the  crew  were  Vaniman  and  I,  cool-headed, 
resourceful  Louis  Loud,  who  is  Vaniman's 
brother-in-law,  and  Nicholas  Popoff,  a  daring 
and  clever  young  Russian,  who  later  took  up 
aviation,  and  won  the  cup  at  Nice  by  a  fine  flight 
out  over  the  Mediterranean  and  back. 

Again  we  carried  the  leather  equilibrator 
which  had  been  so  severely  tested  in  the  flight  of 
1907,  when,  in  making  our  descent  upon  the 
Spitzbergen  mainland  through  a  snowstorm,  the 
serpent  climbed  the  rugged  vertical  glacier  face, 
a  hundred  feet  of  sheer  ice,  wound  in  and  out 
among  the  great  boulders  brought  down  in  the 
moraine  of  the  glacier,  plumped  deep  into  crev- 
asses and  crawled  out  of  them  again,  and  was 
with  us  practically  uninjured  when  the  ship 
finally  came  to  rest  in  the  valley  of  ice. 

This  second  voyage  began  propitiously.  The 
weather  was  fine,  a  light  breeze  blowing  from  the 
south.  At  the  wheel  I  steered  her  several  times 
around  the  strait  which  lay  in  front  of  our  camp 
to  learn  if  everything  was  in  good  order.  All 
going  well  I  headed  her  north.  We  passed  out 
over  Smeerenburg  point  of  Amsterdam  Island, 
where  the  Dutch  whalers  had  a  blubber-boiling 
station  two  centuries  past.  The  equilibrator 
just  touched  the  sands  where  the  summer  town 
reeked  with  whale  oil  and  rum  in  the  long 
ago. 


186  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

One  look  back  to  our  camp  showed  the  men 
there  waving  their  hats  in  excited  glee  and  run- 
ning for  the  hilltops,  the  better  to  see  the  airship 
as  she  moved  toward  the  northern  horizon.  It 
was  with  inexpressible  joy  we  of  the  crew  noted 
how  strong  and  fast  we  were  going  north.  The 
engine  was  running  steadily.  The  ship  was  not 
pitching  or  rolling.  The  equilibrator  seemed  to 
be  riding  well.  Helped  a  little  by  the  breeze,, 
we  were  making  close  to  twenty-five  knots  per 
hour,  northward,  toward  the  Pole. 

At  last  our  three  years  of  arduous  work,  our 
long  vigil  of  worry  and  planning,  our  weeks  and 
months  of  struggle  against  gales  and  all  sorts  of 
obstacles,  seemed  in  a  fair  way  to  be  rewarded. 
The  ship  we  had  so  painstakingly  built  and  per- 
fected was  giving  a  splendid  account  of  herself. 

We  had  made  a  fine  start.  To  the  east  the  icy 
mountains  and  huge  glaciers  of  the  Spitzbergen 
coast  glistened  in  the  sunlight.  To  the  north  the 
ice-pack's  white  was  looming  in  view.  Far  to 
the  southwest  our  steamer,  the  Arctic,  was 
headed  our  way,  a  dot  on  the  waters,  moving 
with  such  clumsy  slowness  compared  with  our 
ship  of  the  air.  Below  us  the  dark  green  waters 
of  the  polar  sea  glided  past,  our  equilibrator's 
lower  end  thirty  or  forty  yards  above  them. 

So  elated  were  we,  one  and  all,  that  we  hallooed 
to  one  another,  and  laughed,  and  cracked  our 


SECOXD  VOYAGE  187 

jokes,  Vaniman  and  Loud  in  the  engine  room 
smiling  up  at  Popoff  and  me  at  the  wheel. 

I  gave  the  helm  to  Popoff  and  prepared  to 
take  my  "departure"  from  the  land,  as  the  basis 
of  our  dead  reckoning.  The  whole  north  coast 
of  Spitzbergen,  with  its  sharp-pointed  black 
peaks,  its  valleys  filled  with  gleaming  ice-fields, 
was  rising  to  our  vision,  a  wondrous  Arctic 
panorama. 

At  the  rate  we  were  going  we  could  reach  the 
Pole  in  less  than  thirty  hours!  It  is  no  wonder 
we  were  happy. 

Remembering  the  compass  derangement  of 
1907,  I  climbed  to  the  upper  deck,  hung  there 
suspended  between  the  heavens  and  the  earth, 
and  noted  with  content  that  the  reserve  or  stan- 
dard compass  was  steady  and  true,  though  the 
steering  compass  below  was  a  little  erratic,  due 
to  the  vibration  of  the  ship.  Then  I  returned 
to  the  work  of  writing  up  the  log  and  preparing 
the  data  for  the  navigation  of  the  ship. 

In  a  pause  I  looked  over  the  side  at  the  waters 
far  below,  now  flecked  with  small  fields  of  float- 
ing ice,  the  main  pack  being  but  a  few  miles 
farther  north.  At  that  instant  I  saw  something 
drop  from  the  ship  into  the  sea.  Could  one  be- 
lieve his  eyes?  Yes — it  was  the  equilibrator. 

The  leather  serpent,  so  thoroughly  tested  two 
years  before,  had  played  us  false.  It  parted 


188  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

within  a  yard  of  the  top,  and  plump  down  into 
the  ocean  went  1,200  pounds  of  our  balancing 
device  and  its  contents  of  reserve  provisions. 
Relieved  of  this  load,  the  America  shot  into  the 
clouds. 

Instantly  we  all  knew  the  voyage  was  at  an 
end,  that  without  the  equilibrator  the  ship  would 
soon  become  unmanageable.  The  provisions  we 
could  do  without  in  a  pinch,  because  we  had  more 
in  the  car.  But  the  equilibrator  was  indispen- 
sable. 

Vaniman  sang  out  to  me,  "We'll  have  to  fight 
our  way  back  to  Spitzbergen !"  And  seeing  the 
look  on  my  face,  he  added,  "There  is  no  help  for 
it — you'll  have  to  do  it." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

AN  AIRSHIP  STRUGGLE  OVER  THE  ICE-PACK 

Our  ears  were  ringing  with  the  rapidity  of  our 
ascent.  It  was  growing  colder  at  this  great  alti- 
tude. Vaniman  jumped  for  the  valve  line  and 
pulled  it  far  down  to  let  enough  hydrogen  out  of 
the  top  of  the  balloon  to  prevent  us  going  to  still 
greater  heights.  Before  the  America  stopped 
climbing  we  had  the  whole  northern  part  of 
Spitzbergen  spread  out  in  one  great  frozen  pic- 
ture before  our  eyes,  and  I  imagined  that  away 
in  the  east  I  could  see  Walden  Island  where  the 
old  Rag  mold  Jarl  had  been  crushed  in  the  ice 
in  1894.  Would  the  Arctics  never  bring  me 
anything  but  bad  luck? 

And  whilst  Vaniman  was  working  to  stop  our 
flight  into  the  cloud  I  sat  there  wondering  if  I 
had  the  right  to  take  the  lives  of  my  crew  in  my 
hand  by  holding  her  head  to  the  north,  equili- 
brator  or  no  equilibrator.  My  own  life,  yes; 
theirs,  no.  And  in  bitterness  inexpressible,  I 
told  Popoff  at  the  wheel  to  turn  her  around  and 
steer  for  Spitzbergen. 

Then  ensued  a  struggle  which  none  of  us  en- 
189 


190  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

gaged  in  it  will  ever  forget.  At  the  higher  al- 
titude the  wind  was  strong  from  the  southwest. 
We  were  carried  so  far  over  the  ice-pack  that 
the  Spitzbergen  coast  began  to  fade  away  in  the 
distance,  sixty  or  seventy  miles  away.  At  the 
lower  altitude  to  which  the  America  was  pres- 
ently brought  down  by  letting  out  gas,  the  wind 
was  not  so  strong,  and,  the  motor  still  working 
well,  we  were  able  to  make  headway  to  the 
southward. 

In  addition  to  her  equilibrator  the  America 
carried  a  similar  serpent  of  leather  covered  with 
steel  points  designed  to  serve  as  a  retarder  or 
drag-anchor  against  adverse  winds.  I  asked 
Vaniman  and  Loud  to  let  this  down  to  take  the 
place  in  part  of  the  lost  equilibrator  when  the 
ship  was  to  descend  to  the  earth..  With  almost 
infinite  trouble  they  managed  to  effect  the 
maneuver,  and  we  had  the  weight  of  the  retarder, 
400  pounds,  to  protect  the  ship  from  touching 
the  ice. 

'  Unfortunately,  this  improvised  equilibrator 
had  a  loop  of  steel  cable  dragging  from  its  lower 
end,  and  every  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  this  loop 
caught  fast  upon  the  sharp  edge  of  an  ice  floe. 
Popoff  and  I  soon  became  quite  expert  in  swing- 
ing the  ship  about  with  her  helm,  describing  full 
or  half  circles,  till  that  pesky  steel  loop  would 
slide  off  the  ice  hook  in  which  it  had  made  fast. 


AN  AIRSHIP  STRUGGLE        191 

Thus  we  fought  our  way  south,  mile  by  mile 
and  hour  by  hour,  often  delayed  by  the  cable 
loop  fouling  anew  in  the  ice  below,  but  still  mak- 
ing headway,  the  America  giving  a  right  good 
account  of  herself  as  a  ship  of  the  air  under  un- 
favorable circumstances. 

Once  we  heard  strange,  uncanny  sounds  from 
the  aft  of  the  ship,  near  where  the  sledge  dogs 
lay  in  their  kennel.  We  recognized  PopofFs 
voice,  and  knew  he  was  there.  But  the  sounds 
were  unearthly  Afterward,  we  three  compared 
notes  and  found  all  had  had  the  same  experience. 
The  blood  had  seemed  to  run  cold  and  clammy 
from  our  hearts,  for  each  of  us  felt  sure  our 
comrade  from  Russia  had  lost  his  reason  and 
become  a  jibbering  maniac  up  there  in  the  air 
over  the  polar  sea. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  mystery  was  explained. 
Popoff  had  gone  back  to  feed  the  dogs.  One 
had  snapped  at  him,  and  the  unearthly  sounds 
we  had  heard  with  dismay  were  only  PopofFs 
remonstrance  in  his  native  tongue,  talking  to  the 
dogs,  trying  to  quiet  them. 

Poor,  brave  Popoff!  He  survived  the  perils 
of  that  day,  won  his  spurs  as  an  aviator,  was  in- 
vited to  fly  before  the  Czar,  but  fell  one  day  to 
the  earth  and  was  broken  and  battered  till  the 
wonder  was  life  still  remained  within  him.  For 
months  he  has  been  in  a  hospital,  and  as  we 


192  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

hear  nothing  from  him,  fear  his  reason  may  have 
been  lost,  after  all. 

Soon  we  saw  a  little  steamer  working  her  way 
out  from  the  coast  of  Spitzbergen,  headed 
toward  us.  We  knew  she  was  the  Farm,  a 
Norwegian  government  vessel,  which  Captain 
Isachsen  had  at  Red  Bay,  where  he  was  carry- 
ing on  survey  work. 

For  several  hours  the  Farm  steamed  toward 
us,  and  we  motored  toward  the  Farm.  We  met 
at  the  edge  of  the  ice-fields,  beyond  which  line, 
of  course,  the  Farm  could  not  come. 

Without  much  doubt  the  America  could  have 
made  her  way  back  to  our  camp  under  her  own 
power,  but  we  wished  to  do  everything  prudence 
could  suggest  to  make  sure  of  saving  our  ship. 
So  we  gave  a  tow  line  to  the  Farm,  and  the  re- 
mainder of  the  afternoon  was  spent  in  steaming 
homeward  in  this  strange  manner,  a  little 
steamer  towing  our  airship  twenty  times  her 
size,  we  up  aloft  hallooing  down  to  the  men  on 
the  boat  as  if  they  were  pigmies  of  the  earth. 

But  the  America  did  not  tow  well.  She  ran 
up  alongside  of  the  Farm,  now  on  one  side,  now 
on  the  other,  and  then  came  around  with  a  jerk 
and  shock  which  threatened  to  tear  in  pieces  the 
steel  framework  of  our  car. 

An  hour  or  so  of  this  and  then  the  wind 
strengthened.  The  danger  of  a  smashup  of  the 


TAKING  ASTRONOMICAL  OBSERVATIONS  —  1909. 


AN  AIRSHIP  STRUGGLE        193 

car  was  so  great  we  resolved  to  let  the  airship 
down  till  it  just  touched  the  surface  of  the  sea, 
hoping  she  would  tow  more  easily  and  safely 
there.  So  we  let  out  more  gas,  and  soon  were 
wallowing  about  in  the  trough  of  the  sea.  The 
Farm  sent  her  boats  to  us,  and  we  managed  to 
get  the  instruments  and  dogs  over  to  the  steamer. 
The  dogs  had  been  quiet  during  their  voyage  in 
the  air.  The  moment  they  were  put  in  the  boat 
they  fell  to  fighting  one  another.  Captain 
Isachsen  has  written  in  a  Norwegian  magazine 
that  he  and  his  officers  were  every  moment  ex- 
pecting to  see  the  frail  car  of  the  America 
break  up  in  the  sea,  and  were  wondering  if  it 
would  be  practicable  to  save  the  crew. 

"We  were  reassured,"  he  writes,  "when  we 
saw  Mr.  Wellman  take  out  a  big  cigar,  light  it, 
and  sit  there  calmly  smoking  while  he  gave 
orders  to  his  men,  which  were  as  calmly  obeyed." 

After  a  great  deal  of  trouble  we  saved  all 
valuables  from  the  America  and  then  the  Farm 
towed  her  back  to  camp.  Here  she  got  away 
from  us.  In  putting  her  up  on  the  beach  a  gust 
of  wind  upset  the  gas  bag,  spilled  off  the  car 
and  engines,  while  the  envelope,  relieved  of  the 
weight,  blew  high  in  the  air  and  then  exploded. 
It  was  recovered,  not  seriously  damaged.  The 
steel  car  was  partly  destroyed;  but  that  was 
small  loss,  as  we  should  not  have  used  it  again  in 


194  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

any  event.  All  the  motors,  machinery,  and 
instruments  were  saved. 

The  America  had  done  pretty  well,  and  but  for 
the  loss  of  her  trailer  could  probably  have  gone 
straight  to  the  Pole  or  its  vicinity.  As  it  has 
been  already  pointed  out,  we  had  not  put  all  our 
eggs  in  one  basket,  but  were  prepared,  if  nec- 
essary, to  abandon  the  airship  at  the  farthest 
north,  and  continue  the  journey  to  the  Pole  and 
back  therefrom  to  our  headquarters  or  some 
other  land,  by  traveling  over  the  ice  with  sledges 
and  dogs.  In  the  two  hours  before  the  trailer 
broke  we  had  made  about  forty  miles  northward 
from  our  headquarters,  or  to  the  edge  of  the  ice- 
fields. After  our  involuntary  ascent  into  the 
clouds  we  motored  and  drifted  about  twenty 
miles  north-northeast.  It  took  us  two  hours  to 
work  back  against  the  wind  to  the  ice  edge,  where 
we  met  the  Farm.  Thus  the  voyage  of  the 
America  under  her  own  power  before  she  took 
tow  from  the  steamer  was  about  eighty  miles, 
with  and  against  the  wind.  We  left  camp  at 
ten  in  the  morning,  August  15,  1909,  and  it  was 
late  in  the  evening  before  we  returned  after  a 
voyage  totaling  120  miles  and  a  day  of  most 
extraordinary  adventures. 

Captain  Isachsen,  aboard  the  Farm,  had  been 
able  to  get  a  remarkable  series  of  photographs 
of  the  America — first  while  she  was  far  distant 


AN  AIRSHIP  STRUGGLE        195 

from  the  little  steamer,  next  while  working  her 
way  southward  over  the  ice  fields  against  the 
wind,  then  near  at  hand  at  the  edge  of  the  ice, 
and  finally  while  she  was  being  towed  in  the 
air  and  through  the  water  after  our  intentional 
descent  into  the  sea. 

Captain  Isachsen  and  his  skipper,  Captain 
Hermansen  of  the  Norwegian  navy,  told  us  they 
had  never  had  any  faith  in  the  airship  method 
of  reaching  the  Pole;  "but  when  we  saw  the 
America  so  swiftly  and  majestically  sailing 
straight  northward  from  Spitzbergen  we 
changed  our  minds  and  realized  that  with  a  little 
luck  you  were  sure  to  get  there." 

I  wish  to  make  public  acknowledgment  of  the 
splendid  service  these  Norwegian  sailors  ren- 
dered us,  and  to  thank  them  for  it.  Also  to  add 
that  the  little  luck  we  had  was  of  the  wrong  sort. 

Our  two  voyages  by  airship  over  the  Arctic 
Sea  had  in  nowise  diminished  our  confidence  in 
the  practicability  of  our  plan.  The  second  voy- 
age, in  particular,  reassured  us.  The  airship  it- 
self was  all  right.  But  for  the  accident  to  the 
auxiliary  device,  the  equilibrator,  due  to  an  un- 
detected flaw  in  the  leather,  the  America  might 
easily  have  reached  the  Pole  or  its  vicinity  in 
from  25  to  30  hours  after  we  left  Spitzbergen. 

In  our  three  campaigns  and  two  voyages  we 
had  learned  much;  and  we  were  so  determined 


196  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

to  continue  the  quest  for  the  Pole  with  a  new 
and  enlarged  America  that  before  leaving  our 
camp  we  lengthened  the  balloon  house  so  that 
it  might  accommodate  the  new  America,  with 
which  we  had  intended  going  on  in  the  early 
summer  of  1910. 

But,  as  it  turned  out,  the  Pole  had  been 
reached  already.  Commander  Peary,  with  ad- 
mirable pluck  and  persistence,  had  kept  at  it 
with  the  old  or  brute  strength  method,  and  had 
so  perfected  his  organization  and  equipment 
that  he  was  at  last  able  to  win  the  prize. 

In  the  recent  few  years  the  race  for  the  Pole 
was  really  a  struggle  between  the  old  and  the 
new  methods — the  sledge  versus  the  airship— 
and  the  former  won,  after  nearly  a  century  of 
use.  I  am  convinced  that  if  the  airship  had  had 
one  or  two  years  more  in  which  to  be  perfected 
and  developed  the  victory  would  have  perched 
on  its  banner. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

COOK   AND    PEARY 

Sailing  down  the  coast  of  Norway  on  my  re- 
turn from  Spitzbergen,  in  September,  1909, 
newspaper  men  came  aboard  the  steamer  at  a 
stopping  port  and  showed  me  a  telegram  an- 
nouncing that  "Doctor  Frederick  A.  Cook,  an 
American,  had  reached  the  North  Pole."  A 
few  details  of  his  story  were  given — just  enough 
to  give  me  an  inkling  of  the  false  character  of 
his  claim.  Partly  through  intuition,  and  in  part 
through  logic,  I  felt  sure  his  tale  was  not  true. 
Hence  I  declined  to  make  any  expression  for 
publication,  but  said  in  confidence  to  my  com- 
rades who  were  with  me  that  I  had  not  the 
slightest  confidence  in  Cook's  good  faith. 
Twenty-four  hours  later,  at  Trondjem,  I  had 
Cook's  story  in  full,  as  it  was  first  cabled,  and 
then  knew  from  its  own  inherent  evidence  that 
his  story  was  not  true,  that  he  had  not  been  any- 
where near  the  Pole. 

Two  days  later  we  passed  through  Copen- 
hagen. Cook  had  arrived  there  a  day  or  two 
earlier,  and  was  being  lionized.  Between  trains 

197 


198  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

I  had  plenty  of  time  to  call  upon  him,  and  was, 
in  fact,  within  a  minute's  walk  of  his  hotel.  If 
I  had  had  faith  in  him  it  would  have  been  my 
pleasure  as  an  American  citizen  to  offer  him  my 
hearty  congratulations  upon  his  great  achieve- 
ment; and  as  an  Arctic  man  it  would  have  been 
my  duty  to  do  so.  But  under  the  circumstances 
I  could  not  shake  his  hand,  and  proceeded  to 
Paris  without  seeing  him.  For  this  I  was  writ- 
ten down  in  many  newspapers  as  one  who  had 
permitted  pique  to  influence  me. 

When  the  news  came  that  Peary  had  reached 
the  Pole  I  knew  it  was  true,  and  cabled  him 
my  congratulations.  Upon  returning  to  the 
United  States  I  found  the  Cook-Peary  contro- 
versy raging  bitterly.  It  is  in  my  nature  to  ab- 
hor deceit  and  imposture.  This  attempt  to 
hoodwink  the  public,  and  to  rob  an  honest  man 
of  his  just  dues,  seemed  to  me  particularly  de- 
testable, because  it  put  a  dark  stain  upon  the 
pages  in  which  were  recorded  the  efforts  of  so 
many  brave  men  of  all  nations.  In  my  indig- 
nation, and  my  desire  to  help  the  cause  of  truth, 
I  prepared  and  gave  to  the  press,  without  a 
penny  of  compensation,  a  review  of  Cook's 
story  in  which  it  was  shown  that  he  had  ap- 
proached to  within  about  500  miles  of  the  Pole 
and  then  turned  back. 

Well  did  I  know  this  was  the  unpopular  side. 


COOK  AND  PEARY  199 

The  public  as  a  rule  was  friendly  to  Cook  and 
indignant  at  Peary  because  he  had  used  plain 
language.  If  I  had  been  in  Peary's  place  I 
should  have  used  even  stronger  language  than 
he  did.  Who  would  not,  having  in  his  posses- 
sion absolute  evidence  of  imposture?  Who  fails 
to  cry  "Stop,  thief,"  when  he  chances  to  be 
eye-witness  to  a  crime?  That  I  was  on  the  un- 
popular side  soon  became  plain  enough.  Hun- 
dreds of  letters  poured  in  upon  me  denouncing 
me  in  savage  terms.  Scores  of  newspapers 
took  up  the  hue  and  cry,  and  said  I  was  a 
worse  faker  than  Cook.  I  did  not  mind  that; 
I  had  simply  done  what  I  thought  was  my 
duty. 

It  is  with  no  thought  of  being  harsh  to  Dr. 
Cook  that  these  lines  are  written,  but  only  to 
record  the  facts.  I  have  never  been  able  to 
subscribe  to  the  mental  derangement  theory. 
There  is  nothing  in  Arctic  work  that  I  have  ever 
seen — and  I  have  had  a  little  experience — which 
tends  to  destroy  the  mental  balance.  Cook's 
trouble  was  not  hallucination,  but  habit;  he  had 
imposed  upon  the  world  with  his  untrue  story 
of  ascending  Mt.  McKinley,  and  as  that  went 
fairly  well  he  bethought  him  of  trying  for  a  larger 
prize  in  the  field  of  imposture. 

For  Cook  I  ask  charity  and  sympathy.  He 
is  an  erring  brother.  He  fell  before  temptation, 


200  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

and  is  now  repentant.  He  should  be  judged 
with  lenience,  not  with  harshness. 

In  1907,  a  party  of  German  officers  and 
scientists  spent  the  summer  at  our  headquarters, 
closely  watching  our  operations.  Among  them 
was  Prof.  H.  Elias,  of  Berlin,  a  recognized  au- 
thority on  aerial  navigation,  and  editor  of  the 
Illustrierte  Aeronautische  Mitteilungen.  Dr. 
Elias  and  the  officers  who  were  with  him  not 
only  made  a  report  upon  our  work  to  the  Gen- 
eral Staff  of  the  German  Army,  but  Dr.  Elias 
published  an  exhaustive  analysis  and  description 
from  the  viewpoint  of  one  who  had  been  on  the 
spot  and  who  had  watched  us  day  by  day 
throughout  all  our  efforts.  He  says : 

"Wellman's  attempt  to  reach  the  North  Pole 
with  an  airship,  as  is  well  known,  was  not 
successful  this  year.  Though  a  real  success  is 
not  yet  to  be  recorded,  the  undertaking,  con- 
sidering its  high  aim,  is  interesting  enough  to 
justify  a  closer  study.  As  a  member  of  the  ex- 
pedition fitted  out  by  the  Berlin  Lokal-Anzeiger, 
I  had  the  opportunity  to  witness  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  start,  as  well  as  the  trial  trip.  I 
do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  during  that  time  I  en- 
tirely changed  my  opinion  in  regard  to  this 
undertaking.  According  to  the  reports  in  the 
papers  I  had  expected  to  find  an  advertising 
scheme  that  would,  relying  upon  the  difficulties 


THE  AMERICA  READY  TO  LEAVE  BALLOOX  HOUSE,  SPITSBERGEN  —  1909. 


COOK  AND  PEARY  201 

presented  by  the  locality,  drag  on  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  final  flight  in  order  to  keep  the 
world  in  a  state  of  suspense.  Instead  of  this  I 
found  men  who  went  ahead  fired  with  earnest 
thought  and  self-sacrifice,  willing  to  risk  both 
health  and  life  to  accomplish  their  task.  That 
the  expedition  is  a  sincere  and  serious  undertak- 
ing is  an  established  fact,  and  no  reason  can  be 
found  justifying  its  being  held  under  suspicion 
or  ridicule." 

Dr.  Elias  adds: 

"One  often  hears  the  remark  that  the  attempt 
(to  reach  the  Pole  by  airship)  should  not  be 
made  until  the  problem  of  long  distance  flights 
in  Europe  has  been  solved.  With  this  I  do  not 
agree.  The  conditions  in  the  far  north  are 
much  more  favorable  for  long  flights  than  they 
are  here." 

The  distinguished  German  scientist  then  calls 
attention  to  the  relatively  light  winds  usually 
prevailing  in  the  Arctic  regions  in  summer,  the 
small  variation  of  the  temperature,  the  use  of  the 
drag  rope  which  is  possible  in  the  north  and  not 
in  Europe,  and  to  other  conditions.  He  de- 
scribes in  detail  all  the  preparations  for  the  trial, 
and  the  voyage  itself,  approves  most  of  the 
methods  adopted  and  criticizes  only  some  of  the 
smaller  details,  says  the  Americas  speed  was 
up  to  the  calculations,  and  concludes  his  review, 


202  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

made  as  a  wholly  disinterested  observer,  with 
these  words: 

"It  would  seem  a  pity  if  after  so  much  care- 
ful preparation,  and  study  of  airships  in  civilized 
localities,  this  attempt  in  the  far  north  should 
not  be  resumed.  A  long  journey  over  the  ice, 
perhaps  a  new  record  for  the  farthest  north, 
would  be  almost  certain.  And  in  this  way  it 
would  be  proven  that  the  airship  is  eminently 
suitable  for  polar  exploration." 

The  testimony  of  one  such  witness,  a  man  of 
science,  and  for  six  weeks  present  at  our  head- 
quarters, seeing  everything  and  talking  with 
everyone,  should  be  sufficient  answer  to  all 
criticisms  or  suspicions  having  their  origin  at  a 
distance  and  in  complete  ignorance  of  the  facts. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

COMMERCIALISM,  EXPLORATION  AND  ADVERTISING 

While  I  was  at  Spitzbergen  in  1907  a  letter 
came  to  me  from  Arthur  H.  Keller,  a  mining 
engineer  of  Santa  Ros-a  di  Copa,  Honduras,  ex- 
pressing his  appreciation  of  my  work  as  journal- 
ist but  his  disapproval  of  my  polar  efforts,  which 
he  characterized  as  "an  advertising  scheme."  As 
this  was  a  type  of  several  letters,  and  of  much 
press  comment,  it  seemed  to  warrant  a  reply  in 
the  utmost  frankness.  My  answer  was  as  fol- 
lows : 

CAMP  WELLMAN,  SPITZBERGEN,  Aug.  9, 1907. 

DEAR  SIR:  All  your  characterizations  of  my 
work  as  journalist,  observer  and  writer,  are  more 
than  kind — they  are  generous,  even  extravagant. 
If  any  part  of  your  praise  be  merited,  it  is  your 
expressed  recognition  of  my  sincerity,  of  my  con- 
stant desire,  within  the  limitations  of  my  ability 
and  influence,  not  only  to  do  good  work  from  the 
professional  viewpoint,  but  good  work  for  the 
country,  for  humanity,  for  progress,  for  the 
spread  of  knowledge.  So  few  have  recognized 

203 


204  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

that,  I  am  the  more  grateful  because  you,  sitting 
afar  in  the  wilderness,  from  your  bird'seye  point 
of  vantage  in  the  mountains,  have  recognized  it. 

But  your  estimate  of  the  enterprise  which  for 
the  present  engages  my  energies  I,  of  course, 
cannot  agree  to.  If  you  were  as  sympathetic 
with  all  sorts  of  dignified  human  endeavor  as 
you  are  kind  enough  to  imply  I  am,  you  would 
be  sympathetic  with  this  effort,  too.  You  voice 
keen  appreciation  of  my  humble  labors  in  an- 
other field.  This  is  because  that  is  a  field  in 
which  you  happen  to  be  interested,  wherefrom 
you  derive  something  of  value,  of  satisfaction. 
You  are,  apparently,  not  interested  in  polar  ex- 
ploration; it  does  not  appeal  to  you.  Which  is 
not  at  all  surprising,  since  it  is  impossible  for  all 
of  us  to  be  interested  in  all  of  the  great  complex 
life  and  work  of  our  era.  But,  because  you  do 
not  happen  to  be  interested,  does  it  follow  that 
no  one  else  is,  or  should  be?  Because  it  does  not 
chance  to  be  one  of  the  things  that  appeal  to 
you,  may  it  not  appeal  to  many  others? 

As  for  myself,  I  take  not  the  slightest  interest 
in  mining  engineering.  It  does  not  happen  to 
appeal  to  me.  If  I  were  to  consult  only  my 
prejudices  and  smother  my  sympathies  and  un- 
derstanding, I  might  say  it  is  a  very  prosaic  voca- 
tion, a  mere  refinement  of  the  savage  instinct  to 
dig  from  the  earth  something  desirable,  like 


CALL  OF  THE  UNKNOWN      205 

edible  roots  and  bulbs — nothing  but  a  mechan- 
ical grubbing  for  vulgar  money!  But  my  in- 
telligence tells  me  it  is  a  most  admirable,  a  most 
useful  and  dignified  profession,  and  I  take  off 
my  hat  to  men  like  you  who  have  won  distinction 
in  it  because  they  have  worked  for  it  and  de- 
served it. 

Because  I  care  not  a  fig  (for  myself  as  an  in- 
dividual) for  commercialism,  for  money-hunting 
or  fortune -making,  it  would  be  foolish  of  me 
to  question  the  dignity,  the  worthiness  of  those 
who  do  believe  in  it  and  devote  their  energies  to 
it.  It  seems  to  me  equally  foolish  of  men  who 
do  love  industrial  and  commercial  work  to  deny 
the  dignity  and  worthiness  of  pursuits  which 
have  other  aims  than  the  commercial  or  fiscal. 
I  should  not  choose  to  dig  for  gold,  or  grow  po- 
tatoes, or  make  boots,  but  I  have  the  highest  re- 
spect, even  admiration,  for  the  man  who  does  any 
or  all  of  these,  so  he  but  do  it  well. 

We  are  not  rational  if  we  fail  to  recognize  the 
fact  that  our  whole  civilization  rests  upon  com- 
plexity of  endeavor.  When  man  was  primitive, 
every  one  had  the  same  occupation  as  every  other 
—chasing  game,  or  digging  in  the  ground,  or 
fishing  in  the  waters,  for  food  for  his  stomach. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  the  bakers,  the  butch- 
ers, the  millers,  the  tailors  made  their  appear- 
ance; and  with  their  coming  came  civilization. 


206  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

It  took  a  longer  time  to  evolve  from  the  man 
with  a  stone  slung  in  a  sapling,  pounding  and 
mauling  for  bits  of  bright  metal,  the  scientific 
mining  engineer.  It  has  required  a  still  longer 
time  to  produce  men  who  love  the  pursuit  of 
knowledge  for  itself  and  not  for  the  money  or 
bright  bits  of  metal  they  may  win  from  it.  And 
all  these  are  among  the  millions  of  milestones 
which  mark  the  progress  of  our  race.  The 
astronomer  who  looks  down  from  the  milky  way 
with  contemptuous  glance  at  his  milkman,  deem- 
ing him  but  a  human  clod,  only  one  remove  from 
his  cow,  is  as  wrong  as  the  milkman  who  tells 
the  servant  girl  at  the  next  house  that  the 
astronomer  is  daft  in  his  upper  story  and  would 
better  spend  his  time  growing  cabbage  than  in 
"all  them  silly  star-gazings."  The  point  is:  Is 
the  astronomer  a  good  and  earnest  one,  does 
he  really  add  something  to  the  sum  of  human 
knowledge?  Does  the  milkman  keep  his  cows 
sanitary  and  water  his  stock,  but  not  the  product 
thereof?  All  work  is  worthy  and  dignified,  as 
all  love  is ;  for  work,  and  love,  are  life. 

Nor  can  we  separate  the  purely  useful,  from 
the  aesthetic  or  intellectual,  calling  one  the  sheep 
that  bear  wool  for  warm  clothing  and  yield  meat 
for  the  hungry,  and  therefore  worthy  of  protec- 
tion and  encouragement,  while  naming  the  other 
mere  grotesque  billy-goats  which  have  no  legiti- 


CALL  OF  THE  UNKNOWN      207 

mate  right  to  live.  To  apply  only  utilitarian 
tests  to  human  endeavor  is  to  push  civilization 
back  I  do  not  know  how  many  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  years.  One  class  of  utilitarians — 
the  narrowest  and  least  intellectually  developed 
• — can  see  little  good  in  anything  beyond  bread, 
butter,  bed.  The  second  class,  with  just  a  little 
broader  horizon,  pronounce  crazy  one  who  en- 
gages in  an  enterprise  which  promises  no  money 
reward.  A  third  class,  and  a  very  numerous 
one,  are  sympathetic  enough  with  the  particular 
aims  intellectual  or  aesthetic  which  happen  to  in- 
terest them,  but  cry  "idiotic"  as  to  all  others.  I 
hope  you  will  avoid  falling  into  this  last  category, 
my  dear  Mr.  Keller. 

That  you  love  literature  and  science  ahd  his- 
tory and  poetry  is  obvious  from  the  books  which 
you  tell  me  you  have  on  your  library  shelves. 
Polar  exploration  has  and  is  all  of  these,  with  a 
dash  of  adventure  and  daring  thrown  in  for 
flavor.  By  implication  you  ask,  as  many  have 
asked  before:  "Of  what  use  is  trying  to  reach 
the  North  Pole?"  Yet  you  would  be  the  first 
to  hit  with  a  metaphorical  brick  (which  as  a  min- 
ing engineer  you  know  so  well  how  to  do)  the 
dolt  who  might  ask:  "What  good  does  it  do  to 
write  a  great  poem  or  paint  a  great  picture  or 
make  a  great  drama  or  mould  a  great  statue?" 
And  so  I  shall  have  to  ask  you:  "What  is  polar 


208  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

exploration  but  an  epic — an  epic  written  in  deeds, 
not  mere  words?" 

Man  was  endowed  with  many  passions;  arid 
one  of  the  noblest  of  these  is  his  passion  for 
knowing  things.  He  hungers  and  thirsts  to 
know  everything  in  the  world  and  round  about 
it — even  the  unknowable.  This  passion  for 
knowledge  is  as  strong  as  his  passion  for  life 
itself  and  for  recreation  of  that  life.  It  is  a  part 
of  man,  and  one  of  the  best  parts.  It  stops  at 
nothing.  It  leads  one  man  one  way,  one  an- 
other, all  impelled  forward  by  the  same  aspira- 
tion. One  it  takes  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
Another  to  the  bowels  of  the  mountains.  A 
third  to  the  geologic  records  left  by  the  feet  of 
time  in  ages  and  geons  past.  Still  others  to 
analyses,  chemical  or  microscopic,  of  all  matter 
and  of  all  the  atoms  and  molecules  of  all  sub- 
stances. It  is  a  passion  which  leads  some  to  the 
library,  some  to  the  laboratory,  some  to  the  stars, 
some  to  the  remotest  parts  of  the  earth.  Where- 
ever  there  is  something  unknown  man  hears  the 
imperious  call,  "Come,  find  me  out — know  me  if 
you  can  and  dare."  The  Pole  thus  challenges 
him.  In  the  beautiful  lines  of  Chester  Firkins 
the  North  Wind  musters  him  to  the  unknown 
of  the  farthest  north: 

"From  the  dark  of  the  boreal  seas, 

From  the  midnight  morn  of  the  Pole, 


£ 

l 


w    o 

I? 


CALL  OF  THE  UNKNOWN      209 

To  the  sands  of  your  southland  leas, 

Where  sweltering  cities  roll; 
From  the  still  of  the  Caves  of  the  Cold, 

To  the  resonant  marches  of  men, 
By  the  wind  that  runs,  I  summon  my  sons 

To  the  arms  of  the  North  again. 

To  the  ships  of  the  scurrying  main, 

Where  the  stern-wheels  southward  thrum, 
To  the  lands  of  the  Sun  and  the  Rain, 

On  the  winds  of  the  dark  I  come; 
And  never  thy  Love,  nor  the  lure 

Of  thy  Fame  shall  make  thee  free, 
For  a  sail  or  a  soul,  at  my  rallying  roll, 

Must  turn  to  the  North  with  me. 

"Ye  have  fathomed  the  fines  of  the  East, 

And  the  reach  of  the  West  ye  know. 
And  the  wilds  of  the  Earth,  as  the  beast, 

Ye  have  tamed  to  the  whip  and  the  hoe; 
But  the  breath  of  my  pitiless  plains 

Ye  have  faced — Ye  have  failed  of  the  goal; 
And  the  drums  of  the  North,  they  shall  summon  ye  forth, 

Till  ye  win  to  the  prize  of  the  Pole!" 

Many  better  men  than  I  have  in  the  past  heard 
this  summons,  as  many  more  will  hear  it  in  the 
future.  The  North  Pole  stands  simply  as  the 
symbol  of  the  unknown  but  knowable  contained 
in  a  million  square  miles  of  unexplored  area  at 
the  very  top  of  our  earth.  Man's  passion  for 
attaining  it  is  centuries  old.  It  is  a  quest  which 
has  its  history,  its  literature,  its  traditions,  its 
chronicles  of  courage,  suffering,  endurance,  dis- 


210  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

appointment,  death.  Some  of  the  best  men  of 
all  countries  and  times  have  engaged  in  it. 
Around  it  has  grown  up  an  international  rivalry, 
friendly  and  sympathetic,  but  keen.  The  man 
who  can  see  no  good  in  it,  not  even  a  sentimental 
if  not  a  practical  good,  the  man  who  finds  him- 
self unable  to  thrill  even  a  little  bit  with  this 
aspiration  to  substitute  knowledge  for  ignorance, 
the  man  who  can  sneer  at  those  who  think 
differently,  the  man  who  can  class  seeking  the 
symbol  of  the  polar  unknown  with  going  over 
Niagara  in  a  barrel,  is  perhaps  as  narrow  as  the 
goodly  but  straight-laced  soul  of  our  Puritan 
ancestry  who  placed  on  the  same  level  the 
mountebank  performing  sleight-of-hand  tricks 
on  the  street  corner  as  an  incident  to  the  sale  of 
patent  nostrums,  and  the  great  tragedian  inter- 
preting on  the  stage  the  mightiest  passions  of 
men  as  limned  by  the  genius  of  a  Shakespeare — 
first  on  the  list  of  books  in  your  own  library. 
He  "never  did  like  them  ungodly  theatricals, 
nohow!" 

You  are  generous  enough  to  regret  what  you 
call  my  sacrifice  to  the  "Moloch  of  an  advertis- 
ing scheme."  I  am  glad  for  your  regard,  but 
sorry  for  your  judgment.  This  is  not  an  ad- 
vertising scheme,  in  the  sense  you  mean  it.  The 
idea  was  mine;  it  was  born,  not  in  wish  to  do 
anything  spectacular,  but  out  of  desire,  long 


CALL  OF  THE  UNKNOWN      211 

existing,  and  twice  before  expressed  in  expedi- 
tionary action,  to  attain  the  Pole;  this  method 
was  a  means  to  an  end,  that  is  all;  the  idea  was 
to  endeavor  to  substitute  modern  science  for  the 
mere  brute  force  of  men  and  dogs  dragging 
sledges.  You  believe  in  that  sort  of  progress, 
or  efforts  to  attain  it,  I  suppose.  You  employ 
scientific  hydraulics,  and  explosives,  and  chem- 
istry in  your  mining,  when  you  can,  instead  of 
the  pick  and  shovel,  do  you  not?  Well,  I  took 
this  idea  to  the  owners  of  the  newspaper  with 
which  I  have  been  associated  most  of  my  active 
life.  They  could  not  see  in  it  anything  for  them 
in  the  way  of  profit,  direct  or  indirect.  They 
could  see  only  outgo.  But  they  did  see  some- 
thing in  the  idea  itself;  saw  that  it  might  work; 
that  it  might  achieve  great  results;  that  it  was 
worth  trying;  and  they  put  their  money  in,  dis- 
interestedly, splendidly,  and  have  put  in  a  great 
deal  more  than  they  at  first  thought  of  doing, 
and  have  done  it  without  grumbling,  without 
hope  of  any  other  reward  than  the  satisfaction  of 
aiding  the  cause  of  human  progress  and  the  ex- 
tension of  knowledge.  Do  you  like  that  sort  of 
men?  I  do. 

Suppose  it  were  nothing  but  an  "advertising 
scheme?"  Here  again  is  a  test  of  the  catholicity 
of  your  sympathies.  As  a  savant  servant  of  in- 
dustrialism you  must  know  that  advertising  is 


212  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

as  much  a  part  of  modern  business  as  bookkeep- 
ing or  payday.  Very  little  business  is  done 
without  it.  It  is  a  part  of  the  machinery  of 
diffusion,  of  marketing,  like  solid  merit  in  the 
wares,  like  the  eternal  struggle  that  is  going  on 
throughout  the  wrorld  to  make  things  better  and 
cheaper  than  one's  rivals  which  is  such  a  mighty 
agency  in  the  progress  of  civilization  and  the 
lifting  and  broadening  of  the  standard  of  com- 
fort and  convenience  among  hundreds  of  millions 
of  people.  If  goods  are  to  be  manufactured  to 
meet  the  demands  of  modern  civilization,  they 
must  be  sold.  Advertising  is  a  part  of  the  sell- 
ing machinery.  It  is  just  as  worthy  and  digni- 
fied, if  it  be  done  honestly,  as  the  honest  day's 
work  of  the  man  in  the  mill  making  the  goods. 
To  sneer  at  advertising  is  to  sneer  at  civilization 
itself.  Because  you  do  not  happen  to  need  ad- 
vertising in  your  particular  field  of  activity, 
would  you  condemn  it  in  all  others?  In  your 
country  you  perhaps  need  no  overcoats;  then  it 
must  be  ridiculous  and  grotesque  in  your  eyes 
to  wear  overcoats  in  more  rigorous  climes. 

More  than  anything  else  in  the  world,  adver- 
tising has  served  to  make  industrialism,  commer- 
cialism, the  handmaidens  of  literature,  of  art,  of 
science,  of  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  and  cul- 
ture among  the  human  mass.  So,  please  do  not 
take  advertising  out  of  our  modern  life.  If  you 


CALL  OF  THE  UNKNOWN      213 

do,  at  a  blow  you  stop  all  the  magazines  and 
newspapers,  cut  short  the  careers  of  thousands 
and  thousands  of  writers  and  illustrators,  send 
the  world  backward  to  the  dullness  of  the 
Quarterly  Review  read  by  one  man  in  a  hundred 
thousand,  make  the  almanac  and  the  family 
bible  the  principal  literature  of  the  masses,  and 
give  us  a  taste  of  the  gayety  of  life  in  the  time 
of  Noah,  when  man  thought  of  nothing  but  his 
bread  and  meat,  his  herds,  his  wives  and  con- 
cubines; when  the  only  incentive  he  had  to  a 
voyage  of  exploration  was  his  desire  to  save  him- 
self, his  wives,  his  swine,  his  poultry,  from  high 
water ! 

At  the  last,  with  just  a  trace  of  delicious  in- 
consistence,  you  leave  your  original  ground  that 
exploration  of  the  unknown  is  not  worth  while, 
and  question  if  the  means  we  have  adopted  are 
efficient  for  the  purpose  in  view.  On  this  point 
there  is  ample  room  for  differences  of  opinion. 
You  are  entitled  to  your  views,  we  to  ours. 
You  do  not  know,  we  do  not  know.  But  I  sub- 
mit to  you  as  a  man  of  science,  engineering  and 
mechanics:  The  spirit  that  sends  one  forth  to 
try,  even  at  the  risk  of  failure,  is  better  for  the 
cause  of  progress  than  the  doubt  which  says,  "It 
can't  be  done,  at  least  not  that  way,"  and  sits  at 
home  toasting  its  shins  by  the  fire,  reading  Plu- 
tarch, and  grubbing  for  gold. 


214  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

My  dear  sir,  the  warmth  of  your  sympathy  for 
me  as  writer  and  man,  shows  how  good  your 
heart  must  be.  Let  it  soften  and  broaden  a  lit- 
tle toward  the  activities  and  aspirations  of  all 
your  kin,  no  matter  what  direction  they  may 
chance  to  take,  whether  toward  the  purely  use- 
ful, the  intellectual,  the  aesthetic,  the  scientific,  or 
the  sentimental.  Then  we  may  continue  this 
correspondence  and  be  brothers  of  man  together 
in  our  old  age  after  our  life's  work,  each  to  his 
kind,  is  done. 

Gratefully  and  sincerely  yours, 

WALTER  WELLMAN. 

Arthur  H.  Keller,  E.  M., 
Santa  Rosa  di  Copa. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC  BY  AIRSHIP 

Having  satisfied  myself  beyond  peradventure 
that  Peary  had  reached  the  Pole,  and  realizing 
that  this  great  quest  was  at  an  end,  I  turned 
next  to  a  project  which  had  long  been  in  my 
mind — to  attempt  a  crossing  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  by  airship.  We  made  that  voyage  in 
October,  1910.  All  the  world  was  kind  enough 
to  watch  our  effort  with  keen  interest  and  warm 
sympathy.  All  the  world  now  knows  the  result. 
In  future  chapters  I  shall  ask  the  reader  to 
accompany  my  comrades  and  myself  on  that 
memorable  voyage,  that  strange  journeying  for 
three  days  and  nights  through  the  air  over  the 
stormy  sea,  a  voyage  which  had  the  grim  specter 
ever  hovering  near,  which  broke  all  airship 
records  for  time  and  distance,  and  which  in  the 
end  was  brought  to  a  fortunate  conclusion  by 
one  of  those  combinations  of  chance  so  rare  and 
strange  as  to  seem  almost  miraculous. 

Before  taking  the  reader  with  me  upon  this 
remarkable  adventure,  I  want  him — and  doubt- 
less he  wants  for  himself — to  know  more  of 

215 


216  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

what  has  gone  before;  what  the  enterprise  really 
was;  why  it  was  called  into  being;  how  the  idea 
had  its  genesis;  what  the  plan,  what  the  dif- 
ficulties in  its  way,  and  how  we  had  contrived 
and  striven  to  overcome  them.  The  story  of  the 
voyage  itself  will  be  rapid,  vivid,  full  of  action, 
life,  human  interest,  peril,  adventure.  But  a 
great  part  of  that  story  will  be  only  half  clear, 
will  lose  much  of  its  true  value  and  significance, 
if  the  reader  has  not  become  familiar  beforehand 
not  only  with  the  soul  and  heart,  but  with  the 
lungs,  the  muscles,  the  sinews  of  the  project. 

As  we  stole  forth  through  the  fog  that  morn- 
ing of  the  fifteenth  of  October  and  set  our  prow 
to  the  eastward  over  the  waters  of  the  broad 
Atlantic,  we  were  a  half  dozen  human  pigmies 
astride  a  great  machine  weighing  a  total  of 
about  26,000  pounds — thirteen  tons  of  steel,  silk, 
rubber,  gasoline,  engines,  provisions,  hydrogen, 
a  thousand  things  welded  together  in  a  modern 
lighter-than-air  aerial  craft. 

Whether  this  frail  combination  of  art,  artifice, 
and  science  was  to  prove  a  true  and  serviceable 
ship  of  the  air,  or  a  grim  Frankenstein,  we  did 
not  know.  That  is  precisely  what  we  were  try- 
ing to  find  out.  We  were  trying  to  achieve  with 
steel,  power,  engineering  and  man's  mechanical 
cunning  such  mastery  of  space  and  distance 
through  an  aerial  ocean  never  yet  traversed  as 


ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC        217 

would  constitute  the  realization  of  a  splendid 
dream. 

That  was  what  made  it  worth  while.  It  is 
always  worth  while  to  strive,  to  venture,  to  work, 
to  dare — and  leave  the  rest  to  the  gods — in  an 
effort  to  realize  man's  dreams  of  conquest  of  the 
elements;  to  do  something — be  it  much  or  little 
—for  progress,  to  widen  the  frontiers  of  knowl- 
edge and  achievement. 

It  is  even  worth  while  to  try  and  fail,  because 
failure  often  teaches  as  much  as  success.  Of 
course  it  is  far  better  to  try  and  win.  But  the 
men  who  do  try  in  any  of  these  fields  of  en- 
deavor, be  they  fit  for  their  work,  have  a  way  of 
looking  all  the  possibilities  squarely  in  the  eye. 

Our  effort  to  cross  the  ocean  by  airship  we  had 
always  regarded  as  a  great  scientific  experiment 
whose  outcome,  like  that  of  all  experiments, 
must  be  in  doubt.  Everyone  can  see  the 
dramatic  aspect  of  sailing  forth  upon  a  voyage 
three  thousand  five  hundred  miles  through  the 
air  over  a  stormy  sea,  despite  the  fact  that  the 
longest  airship  voyage  thitherto  made  was  only 
about  nine  hundred  miles,  and  that  over  land. 

Everyone  could  see  that  such  a  venture  was 
audacious,  possibly  heroic,  probably  epic.  But 
a  voyage  like  this,  with  all  its  danger  and  with 
the  chances  heavily  against  success  the  first  try, 
should  have  better  justification  than  the  mere  de- 


218  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

sire  to  perform  a  sensational  feat.  The  moving 
spirit  should  be  not  simply  a  desire  to  astonish 
the  world,  but  to  confer  lasting  benefit  upon 
mankind. 

Our  hope  and  aim  were  not  primarily  commer- 
cial utilization  of  airships.  Our  dreams  carried 
us  not  toward  the  regular  lines  of  aerial  trans- 
ocean  transportation  which  so  many  optimists 
see  in  their  visions. 

Whatever  the  aeroplane  may  bring  forth— 
and  that  the  future  alone  can  determine — we 
know  full  well  the  limitations  of  air  travel  by 
such  motor-balloons  as  ours.  These  limitations 
probably,  we  cannot  say  surely,  fall  short  of  the 
requirements  of  true  commercial  utility.  Com- 
mercial use  inevitably  means  a  high  degree  of 
safety,  of  regularity  of  service,  certainty  of  arri- 
val at  a  predetermined  destination — all  these  as 
elements  of  the  indispensable  operation  for 
profit. 

In  our  opinion,  all  these  objections  not  only 
hold  but  are  likely  to  continue  to  hold  against 
the  motor-balloon.  The  operation  of  a  lighter- 
than-air  ship  is  essentially  extra-hazardous. 
Under  favorable  conditions  the  craft  may  do 
much;  under  unfavorable  conditions  loss  or 
disaster  quickly  follow.  Being  inevitably  extra- 
hazardous,  it  is  adaptable — at  least  in  its  present 
stage — only  to  purposes  wherein  the  price  of  the 


ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC        219 

hazard  may  be  paid.  That  is  not  in  commerce. 
But  it  is  in  sport,  in  exploration,  and  in  war. 
In  all  of  these,  extra  risks  being  inevitable  and 
acceptable,  the  motor-balloon  is  available. 

We  have  nothing  to  do  with  sport  in  the  air 
—dignified  and  admirable  as  it  may  be.  We 
have  had  something  to  do  with  aerial  exploration, 
and  we  wish  to  have  something  to  do  with  aerial 
warfare.  Growing  out  of  my  experience  in  de- 
signing, building,  equipping  and  navigating  the 
second  largest  airship  in  the  world  had  come 
certain  ideas  of  making  the  motor-balloon  a  ter- 
ribly destructive  engine  of  war.  It  is  my  belief 
that  through  methods  of  our  own,  evolved 
from  actual  experience,  the  motor-balloon  is  to 
play  an  important  part  in  the  war  plans  of  the 
future,  and  aid  materially  in  making  war  so 
scientific,  so  destructive  to  property,  that  in  the 
end  there  will  be  no  more  wars.  The  transat- 
lantic voyage  was  deliberately  planned  to  fur- 
ther this  idea,  to  call  the  attention  of  the  gov- 
ernments of  the  world  to  the  military  and  naval 
value  of  such  air-craft.  Dreamers  we  may  have 
been,  but  we  had  had  some  experience.  We  were 
not  mere  tyros  or  adventurers,  and  a  definite  and 
dignified  aim,  not  bald  and  bold  sensationalism, 
moved  us. 

So  much  for  the  soul  and  heart  of  the  dream; 
now  for  the  material  side,  the  lungs,  the  muscles. 


220  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  airship  America  with  which  we  had  made 
two  voyages  from  Spitzbergen  in  our  efforts  to 
reach  the  North  Pole,  one  of  more  than  a  hun- 
dred miles  out  over  the  Arctic  Sea,  was  gener- 
ously lent  us  by  Mr.  Victor  F.  Lawson,  of  Chi- 
cago, president  of  the  association  which  had 
built  the  ship  and  supported  the  polar  expedi- 
tions. But  for  a  chance  to  cross  the  Atlantic  the 
airship  required  enlargement,  improvement,  a 
new  steel  car,  new  engines,  fittings,  appliances 
of  all  sorts,  costing  a  large  sum  of  money. 

All  my  life  a  journalist,  and  proud  of  it,  al- 
ways a  believer  in  the  principle  that  journalism 
of  the  best  sort  is  alert  and  enterprising  in  try- 
ing to  do  something  for  progress,  I  again  turned 
to  journalism  for  financial  assistance. 

I  am  proud  of  the  fact  that  I  was  able  to 
form  a  combination  of  the  greatest  newspaper 
in  the  old  world,  the  London  Daily  Telegraph, 
with  the  journal  which  is  generally  regarded  as 
being  the  foremost  in  the  eastern  part  of  our 
own  country,  the  New  York  Times,  and  the 
leading  paper  of  interior  America,  the  Chicago 
Record-Herald,  with  which  I  have  been  con- 
nected all  of  my  active  life. 

These  great  journals,  assuming  no  direct  re- 
sponsibility for  the  voyage,  but  leaving  all  that 
to  me,  advanced  the  forty  thousand  dollars 
which  we  had  estimated  to  be  necessary  to  put 


ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC       221 

the  project  through.  It  was  not  their  fault  that 
the  unexpected  cost  of  reconstruction  and  outfit 
of  the  airship  made  it  necessary  for  us  to  make 
up  a  considerable  deficit  out  of  our  slender 
private  purses. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE    SECRETS    OF   A    GREAT    AIRSHIP 

The  airship  America  was  a  strange,  a  mar- 
velous craft.  To  people  who  saw  her  for  the 
first  time  she  seemed  mysterious,  inexplicable,  a 
nondescript,  indeed,  unlike  anything  else  that 
was  ever  known  for  sailing  upon  the  seas  or 
running  upon  the  land. 

Originally  designed  to  make  a  long  voyage— 
1,500  to  2,000  miles  from  our  base  in  Spitz- 
bergen  to  the  Pole  and  return — we  now  tried  to 
equip  her  with  the  endurance,  the  safety,  the 
stability,  the  radius  of  action,  that  would  enable 
her  to  cope  with  the  distance  which  separates 
America  from  Europe,  3,000  knots,  3,500 
statute  miles. 

No  one  realized  more  clearly  than  we  the 
difficulty  of  the  task,  the  largeness  of  the  order. 
Perhaps  it  was  its  very  difficulty  that  made  it  so 
fascinating  in  our  eyes.  We  have  been  accused 
of  going  at  it  lightly,  with  confidence,  with 
optimism.  The  truth  is  that  we  approached  the 
problem  with  long  and  earnest  consideration  of 

222 


SECRETS  OF  AIRSHIPS         223 

every  element  of  doubt  and  danger  we  could 
think  of. 

Imagine  a  huge  balloon-like  reservoir  228  feet 
long — nearly  a  city  block  in  New  York — sharp 
pointed  at  one  end,  rounded  at  the  other,  52  feet 
thick  in  all  the  central  part.  When  you  stand 
underneath  it,  the  bottom  just  above  your  arms' 
reach,  the  top  is  as  high  above  your  head  as  a 
five-floor  building  from  the  sidewalk.  Massive, 
huge,  still  she  is  as  graceful  as  a  yacht  under  sail. 

This  great  reservoir  is  composed  of  cotton, 
silk,  and  rubber.  Where  the  diameter  is  greatest 
(and  the  upward  push  of  the  gas  within  most 
powerful)  the  fabric  is  three-ply,  with  three 
emulsions  of  rubber  cementing  the  cloth  together. 
The.  silk  and  cotton  give  great  strength  to  resist 
the  outward  pressure  of  the  gas;  the  rubber 
emulsions  hold  the  gas  with  but  a  small  percen- 
tage of  leakage. 

Splendidly  tailored  is  this  huge  bag,  all  seams 
being  wide  lapped,  sewn,  and  gummed,  and  ex- 
tra strips  glued  over  to  cover  the  needle  holes 
and  prevent  the  escape  of  the  precious  hydrogen. 
All  told  there  are  about  4,000  square  yards  of 
this  rubberized  cloth,  weighing  approximately  a 
pound  to  the  yard,  with  a  tensile  or  sustaining 
strength  of  100  pounds  to  the  square  inch. 

Wonderful,  indeed,  is  the  power  attained  by 
wholesale  multiplication  of  the  seemingly  insig- 


224  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

nificant.  Measure  off  with  your  hands  whaf 
will  approximate  a  cubic  foot  of  air.  It  is  ap- 
parently impalpable,  without  substance  or 
weight.  Yet  our  physics  tell  us  this  cubic  foot 
of  air  has  a  weight  approximating  1.2  ounces. 

Now,  if  we  have  a  box  containing  exactly  one 
cubic  foot  of  air,  and  if  we  force  the  air  out  and 
put  in  its  place  hydrogen  weighing  only  .1  ounce 
per  cubic  foot,  the  box  is  1.1  ounces  lighter  than 
it  was  before.  If  the  box  should  be  made  of  a 
substance  so  filmy  that  its  weight  was  only  one 
ounce,  it  would  rise  in  the  air,  because  it  and  its 
contents  together  are  lighter  than  air. 

Multiply  our  one  cubic  foot  by  345,000 — the 
volume  of  the  gas  reservoir  of  the  airship 
America — and  what  do  we  have?  We  have 
taken  out  345,000  cubic  feet  of  air,  weighing 
414,000  ounces,  or  25,800  pounds;  and  we  have 
put  in  345,000  cubic  feet  of  hydrogen  weighing 
34,500  ounces,  or  2,150  pounds.  By  this  simple 
means  we  have  gained  a  lifting  force  of  23,650 
pounds — the  difference  between  the  weight  of 
the  air  displaced  and  the  gas  which  displaces  it. 
In  the  case  of  the  America  the  gas  bag,  with  its 
valves,  inner  balloons  for  air,  and  other  appurte- 
nances, weighs  approximately  4,700  pounds; 
hence,  the  net  lifting  force  is  18,950  pounds.  In 
other  words,  the  gas  can  carry  the  weight  of  the 
balloon  and  a  load  of  nearly  9%  tons  besides. 


AIRSHIP  AMERICA  BEING  TOWED  BY  THE  STEAMER  FARM  —  1909. 


SECRETS  OF  AIRSHIPS         225 

Although  hydrogen  has  a  weight  only  ahout 
one-twelfth  that  of  air,  it  takes  more  than  a  ton 
of  it  to  fill  the  reservoir  of  our  airship.  The 
manufacture  of  this  quantity  of  gas  was  not  an 
easy  or  inexpensive  operation.  A  special  ap- 
paratus was  built  in  Paris,  brought  to  Atlantic 
City,  New  Jersey,  and  there  assembled. 

More  than  one  hundred  tons  of  sulphuric  acid, 
sixty  tons  of  iron  turnings,  and  hundreds  of  tons 
of  water  were  used  in  the  generating  process. 
Ten  men  in  each  shift  worked  night  and  day 
for  a  week  feeding  the  apparatus.  The  total 
cost  of  one  filling  of  the  gas  reservoir,  for  labor 
and  material,  was  $5,000. 

Before  being  admitted  to  the  balloon  the  gas 
was  thoroughly  washed  with  water  and  dried  by 
passing  through  cylinders  of  coke,  permanganate 
of  potash  and  calcium  of  lime,  thus  making  it 
light  of  weight,  and  taking  out  all  acids  which 
might  destroy  the  costly  fabric  of  the  balloon. 
Pure  hydrogen  is  odorless.  If  it  escapes  from 
a  receptacle  it  gives  no  sign  of  its  presence. 
Therefore  we  used  several  gallons  of  oil  of  pep- 
permint to  perfume  it  and  enable  us  by  the  odor 
to  detect  it. 

Many  people  speak  of  aircraft  of  the  type  of 
the  America  as  a  balloon.  That  is  as  correct 
as  it  would  be  to  call  a  locomotive  a  car;  a  car 
it  is,  being  a  vehicle  which  runs  on  wheels;  but 


226  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

it  is  much  more  than  a  car — it  is  an  engine, 
equipped  with  power.  The  America  is  a  bal- 
loon, in  the  sense  that  a  gas  reservoir  is  employed 
to  give  lifting  force.  But  when  you  put  engines 
under  a  balloon,  to  drive  it  through  the  air,  and 
attach  a  rudder  to  steer  it  to  the  right  or  to  the 
left,  it  ceases  to  be  a  balloon  and  becomes  an. 
airship,  just  as  any  vehicle  fitted  with  steam 
power  and  driving  wheels  ceases  to  be  a  car  and 
becomes  a  locomotive. 

The  French  call  a  powered  balloon  a  "balloon 
dirigible,"  that  is,  directible.  The  Germans, 
more  simply,  call  it  a  motor-balloon.  "Airship" 
is  perhaps  the  most  appropriate  name.  An 
aeroplane  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  an  airship. 
It  has  no  buoyant  force  of  itself ;  it  does  not  float 
in  the  element  for  which  it  is  designed,  but  is 
driven  through  it.  Mechanical  flight  machines, 
carrying  one,  two,  or  three  passengers,  and  a  hun- 
dred or  two  hundred  pounds  of  fuel  for  the 
motor,  are  more  like  motor-cycles  or  automobiles 
or  motor-boats  for  aerial  trips  than  they  are  like 
true  ships  of  the  air. 

The  America  is  a  true  ship  of  the  air.  Her 
buoyant  force  in  the  atmospheric  ocean  is  nearly 
twelve  tons,  or  nine  and  one-half  tons  in  addi- 
tion to  the  hull  or  gas  reservoir.  Some  place 
must  be  provided  for  the  engines  and  fuel,  for 
the  crew,  their  provisions,  all  the  machinery  and 


SECRETS  OF  AIRSHIPS         227 

instruments.  Some  way  must  be  devised  to  take 
up  the  lift  of  the  gas  bag,  9^/2  tons.  To  meet 
these  two  needs  a  great  steel  platform  or  car  is 
constructed  to  swing  underneath  the  balloon. 

As  in  our  polar  construction,  I  suggested  that 
the  bunkers  of  the  ship,  that  is,  a  huge  steel 
tank  for  carrying  the  tons  of  gasoline  needed  for 
the  engines,  be  made  the  backbone  of  this  car, 
giving  it  strength  and  rigidity.  Engineer  Vani- 
man  at  once  perceived  the  value  of  the  idea,  and 
proceeded  with  marvelous  ingenuity  to  utilize  it. 
He  fashioned  a  frame  of  the  highest-grade  steel 
tubing  and  wires,  strung  as  a  bridge,  capable  in 
places  of  withstanding  strains  of  ten  tons,  the 
whole  156  feet  long,  8  feet  wide  at  the  top, 
V-shaped,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  V  throughout 
all  the  central  section  a  staunch  steel  cylinder 
two  feet  in  diameter,  divided  into  ten  compart- 
ments, and  with  a  capacity  of  1,500  gallons  of 
gasoline. 

This  huge  steel  frame,  enclosed  with  varnished 
canvas,  is  hung  up  under  the  balloon  and  at- 
tached thereto  by  eighty  steel  cables  coming 
down  from  the  relingue  or  attach  belt  sewn  in 
the  cloth  about  ten  feet  below  the  equator.  No 
net  or  hood  is  used  upon  the  gas  reservoir  to  add 
to  its  resistance  whilst  moving  through  the  air, 
and  the  outer  skin  of  the  balloon  part  of  the  ship 
is  as  smooth  and  tight  as  the  head  of  a  drum. 


228  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  nine  and  one-half  tons  of  car,  machinery, 
and  cargo  are  lifted  by  188  hempen  cords,  at- 
tached at  as  many  points  to  the  big  reservoir  and 
terminating  in  eyes  from  which  hangs  the  cradle 
of  suspension  cables  passing  under  the  car.  Cel- 
luloid windows  are  placed  at  intervals  in  the  can- 
vas sides  of  the  car  enclosure;  and  about  the 
engine  room  steel  gauze  replaces  the  canvas,  and 
asbestos  and  asbestos  paint  are  employed  to 
minimize  the  danger  of  fire. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE   ENGINES    OF    THE    SHIP 

How  much  engine  power  should  we  install  in 
our  ship?  What  speed  should  we  aim  at?  It 
would  not  be  difficult  to  put  in  a  motor  of  200 
or  even  300  or  400  horse  power.  Indeed,  at  one 
time  we  thought  of  using  a  200  horse  power  en- 
gine, and  ordered  a  special  motor  of  that  size 
built  in  England,  though  it  was  not  finished  in 
time  for  our  use.  Now,  a  200  horse-power  en- 
gine would  give  the  America  a  speed,  in  still  air, 
of  about  twenty-seven  statute  miles  per  hour. 
The  fuel  consumption  of  the  engine  would  be 
approximately  135  pounds  per  hour,  or  five 
pounds  per  mile.  Could  we  afford  this  relatively 
high  speed? 

A  moment's  calculation  showed  that  for  motor- 
ing 3,500  miles  at  this  speed  we  should  need  at 
least  17,500  pounds  of  fuel  in  our  bunkers,  and 
at  that  should  have  no  reserve.  What  could  we 
do  with  a  smaller  motor — say  one  of  80  horse 
power  ?  It  would  yield  twenty  miles  per  hour  in 
still  air,  or  nearly  four-fifths  as  much  as  the  en- 
gine of  two  and  a  half  times  greater  power. 

229 


230  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  reader  may  be  surprised  at  this.  But  he 
should  remember  that  with  airships,  as  with  all 
other  forms  of  propelled  vehicles,  an  increase  of 
speed  calls  not  merely  for  a  corresponding  in- 
crease of  energy,  but  that  the  energy  applied 
must  theoretically  be  augmented  as  the  square 
of  the  speed,  and  in  practice  somewhat  more. 

We  knew  from  our  two  voyages  in  Spitz- 
bergen  that  a  motor  of  80-90  horse  power,  run- 
ning at  an  output  of  70,  would  drive  the  America 
about  twenty  statute  miles  per  hour  at  a  cost 
of  forty-five  pounds  of  gasoline,  or  less  than  2.5 
pounds  per  mile;  and  that  therefore  with  this 
power  and  speed  we  could  theoretically  motor 
the  3,500  miles  which  separate  Europe  from 
America  with  about  8,000  pounds  of  fuel. 

Now,  in  the  enlargement  of  the  airship  we 
planned  to  carry  about  9,000  pounds  of  gasoline 
in  our  bunkers,  but  could  not  well  undertake  to 
provide  lifting  force  for  nearly  double  that 
quantity,  which  would  be  necessary  if  we  tried  to 
drive  the  ship  at  the  higher  speed.  Hence,  we 
decided  upon  equipping  the  America  with  the 
same  engines  she  carried  in  August,  1909,  when 
she  sallied  forth  from  our  base  in  Spitzbergen, 
and  was  making  more  than  twenty  miles  per 
hour  over  the  ice-fields  of  the  Arctic  Sea  toward 
the  Pole  when  an  accident  compelled  us  to  turn 
about  and  make  for  the  land. 


THE  ENGINES  OF  THE  SHIP     231 

Each  of  these  motors  is  rated  at  eighty  to 
ninety  horse  power,  according  to  the  number  of 
revolutions  per  minute.  One  is  a  Lorraine- 
Dietrich  automobile  engine,  heavy,  trustworthy, 
enduring,  solid,  economical  of  fuel.  It  weighs, 
with  its  radiator  and  equipment,  nearly  one 
thousand  pounds.  It  drives,  at  500  revolutions 
per  minute,  a  pair  of  twin  wooden  screws  each 
twelve  feet  in  diameter,  placed  at  either  end  of 
the  engine  shaft,  that,  on  either  side  of  thje  steel 
car.  The  other  is  an  E.  N.  V.  automobile  or 
aeronautic  engine,  eight  cylinders,  an  admirable 
engine  that  runs  almost  without  vibration  and 
that  is  capable  of  working  a  long  time  at  a 
stretch.  It  drives  a  pair  of  wooden  propellers, 
10.5  feet  in  diameter,  750  revolutions  per  minute. 

These  propellers,  by  an  invention  of  Engineer 
Vaniman's,  patented  in  Europe,  may  at  any  mo- 
ment be  turned  to  any  angle  of  thrust  we  may 
desire.  That  is  to  say  that  while  normally  they 
work,  as  do  the  pair  on  the  other  engine,  in  push- 
ing the  ship  straight  forward,  if  we  wish  to  util- 
ize all  or  a  part  of  the  thrust  to  send  the  craft 
upward  or  downward  we  are  able  to  do  so,  while 
the  engine  is  running,  by  turning  a  wheel  which 
operates  a  miter  gear.  Under  some  circum- 
stances this  may  be  a  highly  advantageous  ar- 
rangement. 

We  did  not  plan  to  run  both  of  our  propelling 


232  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

engines  at  the  same  time,  though  we  could  do 
so  in  an  emergency.  Though  both  together 
would  give  the  ship  a  speed  of  about  25  miles 
per  hour,  the  extra  five  miles  would  be  too  costly 
in  consumption  of  fuel.  Each  engine  and  its 
propulsive  system  is  independent  of  the  other. 
If  one  should  be  temporarily  or  permanently  dis- 
abled the  other  is  in  reserve. 

By  running  one  motor  at  a  time,  each  in  its 
turn,  while  the  other  cools  and  is  lubricated  and 
inspected,  both  should  be  kept  in  first  class  con- 
dition throughout  a  long  voyage,  barring  acci- 
dents. Our  hope  was  that  we  might  have  a 
driving  motor  in  operation  virtually  the  whole 
duration  of  the  voyage.  With  our  9,000  pounds 
of  gasoline  and  lubricant,  we  should  have  in  our 
bunkers  almost,  if  not  quite,  200  hours  of  motor- 
ing with  one  engine,  equivalent  to  approximately 
eight  days,  or  a  theoretical  4,000  miles  (about 
3,500  knots.) 

Thus,  so  far  as  advance  calculations  are  of 
value,  and  considering  gasoline  alone,  the  Amer- 
ica was  to  set  forth  with  a  rather  small  margin  of 
fuel  endurance — enough  for  a  run  of  about 
3.500  knots,  with  a  voyage  of  3,000  knots  be- 
fore her. 

Thousands  of  visitors  to  the  airship  at  Atlantic 
City  asked  if  we  carried  along  with  us  any  means 
of  replenishing  the  gas  during  the  trip.  We 


THE  ENGINES  OF  THE  SHIP     233 

did  not.  It  could  be  done;  that  is,  hydrogen 
could  be  carried  in  steel  bottles,  compressed  to 
125  or  150  atmospheres,  and  be  emptied  into  the 
reservoir  overhead  in  case  of  need,  the  steel  bot- 
tles being  thrown  overboard  to  lighten  the  ship. 
But  it  was  not  necessary  in  our  case. 

The  balloon  part  of  our  airship  was  so  well 
made,  so  nearly  gas  tight,  that  we  did  not  look 
for  any  loss  by  leakage  of  gas  of  more  than  1% 
or  2  per  cent,  per  day.  A  few  years  ago  we 
inflated  the  balloon  with  ordinary  coal  gas  in 
the  old  Exposition  Building  at  Paris,  and  found 
the  rate  of  loss  to  be  not  more  than  .6  of  one 
per  cent,  daily,  indicating  an  average  loss  of 
about  1.5  per  cent,  when  using  hydrogen. 

Later  at  Spitzbergen  we  confirmed  this  indica- 
tion. And  at  Atlantic  City,  where  the  ship  was 
inflated  for  several  weeks,  we  found  the  envelope 
of  the  reservoir  to  be  in  substantially  its  original 
good  condition  of  gas  tightness.  During  the 
voyage  we  reckoned  that  the  loss  of  lifting*  force 
due  to  leakage  of  gas  should  not  exceed,  at  the 
highest,  2  per  cent,  daily,  or  under  500  pounds. 
Now,  we  expected  the  motors  to  consume  1,000 
pounds  of  gasoline,  perhaps  a  little  more,  each 
day,  reducing  by  that  much  the  load  carried  by 
the  ship.  Hence,  instead  of  losing  lifting  force 
by  gas  leakage,  we  should  gain  an  average  of 
about  500  pounds  daily. 


234  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

What  the  winds  might  do  to  help  or  hinder  the 
America  on  her  long  voyage  was  an  exceedingly 
important  factor.  Before  this  effort  was  de- 
cided upon,  a  thorough  study  was  made  of  \vind 
and  weather  conditions  over  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 
The  United  States  Weather  Bureau,  under  the 
direction  of  the  eminent  practical  meteorologist, 
Professor  Willis  L.  Moore,  publishes  monthly 
forecasts  of  the  winds  of  the  North  Atlantic, 
based  upon  reports  from  vessel  masters  during 
the  past  twenty-five  years. 

In  these  admirable  and  comprehensive  records 
the  sea  is  divided  into  rectangular  spaces  each 
containing  five  degrees  of  latitude  and  five  de- 
grees of  longitude.  In  each  of  these  spaces  a 
diagram,  known  in  meteorology  as  a  wind  rose, 
gives  the  probabilities  of  wind  movement  for 
the  month  in  number  of  hours  out  of  one  hun- 
dred, from  the  various  points  of  the  compass, 
with  the  force  of  the  wind  on  the  Beaufort  scale. 

Analysis  of  these  "roses"  told  us  just  the  sort 
of  wind  we  might  expect.  We  found  the  gen- 
eral trend  of  the  air  currents  to  be  from  west 
to  east  throughout  the  months  of  July,  August, 
September  and  October,  there  being  little  differ- 
ence between  the  months,  as  to  prevailing  direc- 
tion, but  the  winds  growing  in  force  as  the 
autumn  comes  on. 

Along    the    transatlantic    steamer    routes    in 


THE  ENGINES  OF  THE  SHIP     235 

September  the  winds  blew  about  60  per  cent,  of 
the  time  from  the  western  semicircle,  and  are 
somewhat  stronger  than  those  from  the  eastern 
semicircle.  In  October  the  time  percentage  is 
a  little  greater  for  the  winds  from  the  west,  and 
the  force  of  all  winds  markedly  increases. 

We  found  that  the  prevalent  direction  of  the 
winds  was  not  only  favorable  to  our  voyage,  but 
that  the  conditions  were  remarkably  well  dis- 
tributed throughout  the  whole  of  the  prospective 
course.  Careful  analysis  in  detail  showed  that 
in  September  (the  month  in  which  we  reckoned 
upon  being  able  to  start)  we  might  expect  an 
average  net  wind  movement  of  from  six  to  eight 
miles  in  our  favor. 

Upon  these  facts  we  based  our  hope  of  a  suc- 
cessful voyage.  With  our  airship  equipped  to 
cross  the  ocean,  theoretically  at  least,  with  her 
own  power  and  fuel,  considering  the  winds  as 
neutral,  or  helping  as  much  as  they  hindered,  it 
seemed  reasonable  to  hope  for  a  fortunate  out- 
come at  a  time  of  the  year  when  the  wind  re- 
sultant is  distinctly  in  our  favor. 

Often  we  were  asked  if  we  are  not  afraid  of 
running  into  a  cyclonic  storm  coming  up  from 
the  West  Indies — if  there  would  not  be  danger 
of  the  airship  being  torn  in  pieces  if  caught  in 
one  of  the  gales  which  are  born  of  the  progress 
of  an  area  of  low  barometer  across  the  Atlantic. 


236  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

We  were  not  afraid  of  cyclones  from  the  West 
Indies.  In  fact,  we  think  we  should  have  wel- 
comed the  appearance  of  one  in  our  wake  after 
we  got  well  out  to  sea. 

These  cyclonic  storms  from  the  West  Indies 
almost  invariably  turn  to  the  northeastward  off 
Hatteras  and  make  for  the  British  Islands  with 
increasing  velocity,  their  average  speed  across  the 
North  Atlantic,  or  at  least  a  part  of  the  way, 
running  from  twenty  to  thirty  miles  per  hour. 
Their  general  course  is  so  well  defined  that  wre 
did  not  fear  them  on  the  score  of  the  direction  in 
which  they  would  carry  our  ship. 

It  is  true  that  occasionally  one  of  these  storms 

-"lows,"  in  which  the  revolving  currents  move 

in  a  direction  contrary  to  the  hands  of  a  watch 

—veers  far  off  to  the  north  in  midocean.     Should 

we    have    been    involved    in    one    of    these    the 

America  might   have   been   carried   northward, 

possibly  to   her   old   headquarters   at   the    80th 

parallel  of  north  latitude  in  Spitzbergen.     But 

that  was  a  remote  chance  which  we  were  willing 

to  risk. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

CURIOUS    FACTS    ABOUT    AIRSHIPS 

There  are  many  strange  things  about  airships. 
In  the  following  paragraphs  an  effort  is  made 
to  explain  some  of  these.  We  are  here  consid- 
ering the  America  as  if  she  were  free  in  the  air 
and  had  no  equilibrator  in  connection  with  the 
earth.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  resistance  of 
the  equilibrator  in  passing  through  the  water  to 
some  extent  modified  the  principles  which  we 
here  explain;  but  the  principles  remain. 

A  steamship  or  sailing  vessel  is  buffeted  by 
wind  and  wave;  but  it  is  partly  immersed  in  an 
ocean  of  fluid  which  offers  great  resistance  and 
subjects  it  to  violent  shocks. 

An  airship  is  completely  immersed  in  a  me- 
dium which  offers  so  little  resistance  that  shocks 
are  impossible.  It  is  not  an  easy  fact  to  grasp 
—but  is  still  a  fact — that  the  only  resistance  an 
airship  offers  to  the  wind,  the  only  strain  or 
pressure  upon  her  parts,  is  that  which  she  herself 
creates  with  her  engine  and  propellers. 

To  understand  this  principle,  imagine  an  air- 
ship far  out  over  the  ocean.  It  is  calm;  no  en- 

237 


238  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

gine  is  running;  the  crew,  perchance,  is  asleep. 
Up  springs  a  gale,  fast  gathering  force  till  it 
reaches  a  velocity  of  fifty  miles  per  hour.  Noth- 
ing whatever  in  the  motion,  the  vibration,  the 
pitching  or  rolling  of  the  ship  alarms  and  awak- 
ens the  crew.  The  ship  being  a  "free  balloon," 
because  no  engine  is  turning,  simply  becomes  a 
part  of  the  wind,  so  to  speak,  moves  with  the 
wind,  offers  no  resistance  to  it,  floats  along  as 
peacefully  as  if  it  still  were  dead  calm.  A  mem- 
ber of  the  crew  awakes,  rubs  his  eyes,  goes  to  his 
post;  but  if  it  be  night,  and  he  cannot  see  the 
ocean,  he  has  no  idea  whether  the  ship  is  stand- 
ing still  or  moving  fifty  miles  per  hour.  If  he 
strikes  a  match  to  light  his  pipe  the  flame  curls 
straight  upward,  precisely  as  if  he  were  in  a 
closed  room — an  experience  which  many  of  us 
have  had  in  ordinary  spherical  ballooning. 

Suppose  now  the  crew  be  roused.  An  engine 
is  started,  a  pair  of  propellers  set  in  motion. 
Then,  and  then  only,  does  the  ship  offer  resist- 
ance to  the  wind ;  and  the  measure  of  her  re- 
sistance is  the  energy  exerted  by  the  propellers 
— just  that,  no  more.  Nor  does  it  make  any 
difference  whether  the  velocity  of  the  wind  be 
ten  or  a  hundred  miles  per  hour;  nor  yet  any 
difference  whether  the  ship  be  headed  into 
the  wind,  or  with  it — the  result  is  the  same.  If 
the  propellers  exert  a  force  sufficient  to  give  the 


FACTS  ABOUT  AIRSHIPS       239 

craft  a  movement  of  twenty  miles  per  hour  in 
still  air,  that  is  her  resistance  to  the  wind,  re- 
gardless of  the  wind's  force  or  direction. 

Steering  into  the  eye  of  a  wind  of  fifty  miles 
per  hour  the  airship  would  lose  thirty  miles  per 
hour;  running  with  such  a  gale  she  would  make 
seventy  miles  per  hour  on  her  way.  Obviously, 
as  long  as  the  ship  has  sea  room — can  keep  herself 
up  in  the  air — no  storm  that  ever  blew  can  hurt 
her.  That  is,  if  she  be  wholly  free  from  contact 
with  the  earth  through  drag  rope,  equilibrator, 
or  other  trailing  device. 

Another  vital  factor  in  the  endurance  of  an 
airship — its  ability  to  make  a  long  voyage — is  its 
continued  buoyancy  under  all  conditions.  We 
have  already  pointed  out  that  the  leakage  of 
hydrogen  through  the  envelope  was  expected  to 
amount  to  a  loss  of  less  than  500  pounds  of  lift- 
ing force  per  day,  while  the  load  carried  was  to 
be  lightened  twice  as  much  by  the  consumption 
of  half  a  ton  of  gasoline  in  the  engines  every 
twenty-four  hours.  But  this  is  not  all  of  the 
story. 

An  airship  is  peculiarly  sensitive  to  any 
change  in  meteorological  conditions.  It  is  af- 
fected by  winds,  sunshine,  clouds,  heat,  cold, 
moisture,  atmospheric  pressure.  All  these  mu- 
tations must  be  taken  into  account  by  the  aero- 
nautic engineer,  who,  all  things  considered,  may 


240  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

be  regarded  as  rather  a  busy  man,  dealing  with 
a  wide  range  of  the  arts  and  sciences — physics, 
mechanics,  chemistry,  metallurgy,  motors,  me- 
teorology, nautical  astronomy,  seamanship,  sex- 
tants, compasses,  human  nature,  finance,  fuels, 
and  food,  in  fact  almost  everything  under  the 
sun. 

The  buoyant  force  of  the  airship  America  was 
nearly  24,000  pounds  when  the^  temperature  of 
the  surrounding  air  and  of  the  gas  within  the 
reservoir  was  at  a  certain  standard,  say  seventy 
degrees  Fahrenheit,  and  the  barometric  pressure 
is  normal,  say  29.92  inches  or  760  millimeters 
of  mercury.  Temperature  and  air  pressure  are 
constantly  changing,  and  the  volume  of  gas,  and 
constantly  the  lifting  power,  changes  with  them. 
Both  temperature  and  atmospheric  pressure 
change  not  only  from  hour  to  hour  and  from  day 
to  day,  due  to  general  conditions,  but  change 
with  every  variation  of  the  altitude  of  the  ship. 

The  reader  should  first  understand  that  all  of 
the  345,000  cubic  feet  of  gas  in  the  balloon  in 
our  airship  was  contained  in  a  single  compart- 
ment or  reservoir,  tightly  closed,  and  kept  con- 
stantly under  a  small  pressure  that  the  form  of 
the  balloon  may  always  be  maintained.  The 
only  openings  in  this  reservoir  were  three  in 
number — one  for  putting  gas  in,  two  valves  for 
letting  gas  out.  One  of  the  latter  was  at  the  top 


. 


FACTS  ABOUT  AIRSHIPS       241 

of  the  balloon,  worked  only  by  a  cord  from  the 
car.  The  other  was  at  the  bottom,  well  aft,  and 
set  to  open  at  a  pressure  of  12  millimeters  of 
water,  equal  to  12  kilogrammes  per  meter  square 
—oh,  that  the  United  States  as  an  approximately 
civilized  country  could  enjoy  the  blessing  of  the 
metric  system  of  weights  and  measures! — or 
about  2~L/2  pounds  per  square  foot.  When  the 
pressure  rises  to  this  height  the  valve  opens 
automatically,  gas  blows  out  till  the  pressure  is 
reduced  to  the  standard,  when  it  closes  again. 
When  the  gas  contracts  and  reduces  the  pressure 
below  the  standard,  air  is  pumped  in  by  a  special 
apparatus  installed  in  the  car  until  the  required 
pressure  is  regained. 

Within  the  balloon  are  six  inner  reservoirs  for 
air.  These  are  empty  when  the  ship  sets  out 
upon  a  voyage,  the  desire  being  of  course  to  take 
the  largest  possible  quantity  of  gas  and  there- 
fore the  maximum  of  lifting  force.  As  hydro- 
gen escapes,  or  is  let  out,  air  is  pumped  into  these 
six  bags  to  replace  the  loss,  always  maintaining 
the  integrity  of  the  balloon's  form.  If  the  bal- 
loon should  become  "flat,"  that  is,  not  be  quite 
full  and  distended,  "pockets"  would  be  formed 
in  its  forward  part,  greatly  increasing  its  resist- 
ance to  the  wind. 

In  the  America  six  of  these  inner  compart- 
ments were  provided  so  that  air — which  is  so 


242  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

much  added  weight  or  ballast — might  be  put  in 
that  part  of  the  ship  where  it  seems  most  needed, 
and  to  prevent  the  rolling  to  and  fro  of  the  rel- 
atively heavy  air,  as  would  be  the  case  if  it  were 
introduced  to  a  single  great  compartment. 

An  airship  sets  forth  on  a  voyage.  It  is,  say, 
the  afternoon.  As  night  comes  on  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  air  falls.  The  gas,  which  has  been 
warmed  by  the  sun  during  the  day,  rapidly  cools 
by  radiation.  All  gases  expand  or  contract 
T^Tst  part  of  their  volume  for  each  degree 
Fahrenheit  of  heat  or  cold.  Gas  within  a  bal- 
loon subjected  to  hours  of  warm  sunshine  will 
absorb  heat,  much  as  a  greenhouse  does,  till  it  is 
far  warmer  than  the  surrounding  air.  If  the 
temperature  of  the  gas  in  the  afternoon  should 
be  100°  Fahrenheit,  and  during  the  night  it  were 
to  cool  to  50°  Fahrenheit,  it  would  suffer  a  con- 
traction equal  to  about  one-tenth  of  its  volume. 

This  is  an  extreme  case;  but  a  contraction  of 
one-twentieth  of  the  volume  is  not  improbable. 
With  the  America  that  would  mean  a  loss  of  ap- 
proximately 1,200  pounds  of  lifting  force.  In 
other  words,  to  keep  the  ship  from  going  down 
to  earth  1,200  pounds  must  be  taken  from  the 
load  which  she  carries. 

At  the  same  time  the  atmospheric  pressure 
may  increase,  still  further  contracting  the  gas. 
Rain  may  deposit  500  to  1,000  pounds  of  water 


FACTS  ABOUT  AIRSHIPS       243 

upon  the  4,000  square  yards  of  the  balloon  and 
its  appurtenances.  To  lighten  ship  under  such 
circumstances  ballast  is  usually  carried  in  the 
form  of  sand  or  water  to  be  thrown  overboard. 

Assuming  that  the  ship  by  these  means  has 
weathered  the  night,  the  following  morning  the 
sun  comes  out  bright  and  warm.  The  gas  ab- 
sorbs heat  and  expands ;  air  is  expelled  from  the 
balloonets  or  inner  balloons  when  the  pressure 
passes  the  fixed  point,  and  opens  the  valves  of 
the  air  compartments;  every  cubic  foot  of  air 
out  lightens  the  ship  1.2  ounces;  the  accumulated 
moisture  upon  the  envelope  and  the  car  is  evapo- 
rated by  the  sun's  heat,  and  under  all  these  in- 
fluences the  craft  rapidly  rises  in  the  air. 

For  many  reasons  it  is  not  desirable  to  go  very 
high.  Chief  among  these  is  the  fact  that  if  a  ship 
is  at  great  altitude  when  the  gas  begins  to  con- 
tract and  starts  her  upon  a  descent  she  acquires 
momentum  going  down,  and  desperate  measures 
must  be  adopted  to  avert  disastrous  collision  with 
the  earth's  surface.  To  prevent  rising  to  an  un- 
desirable altitude  the  valve  cord  is  pulled,  and 
gas  deliberately  let  out  at  the  commencement  of 
a  period  of  expansion. 

It  is  obvious  that  an  airship  operated  by  the 
usual  means — throwing  over  ballast  on  the  one 
hand  or  letting  out  hydrogen  on  the  other — must 
not  only  carry  a  heavy  weight  of  water  or  sand, 


244  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

thus  reducing  the  quantity  of  fuel  that  can  be 
taken  for  the  engines,  but  that  her  vitality  and 
endurance  will  be  quickly  exhausted  by  these  al- 
ternating drafts  upon  her  resources.  For  the 
reasons  just  set  forth  an  airship  depending  upon 
the  usual  means  could  not  hope  to  make  a  voyage 
of  more  than  two  or  three  days'  duration. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE    FAMOUS   EQUILIBRATOR 

An  important,  and  as  it  turned  out,  a  crucial 
part  of  our  equipment,  was  the  equilibrator.  So 
much  has  been  written  and  said  of  it,  and  there 
has  been  so  much  misapprehension  concerning 
it,  that  I  shall  try  to  explain  with  the  utmost 
clearness  its  purpose  and  function,  though  the 
reader  who  has  attentively  gone  through  the 
preceding  chapters  doubtless  understands  it 
very  well  now. 

As  I  have  already  pointed  out,  an  equilibrator, 
or  some  other  device  that  performs  the  same 
function,  is  an  absolute  essential  to  a  long  voy- 
age with  a  motor-balloon.  The  purpose  of  this 
auxiliary,  it  is  well  to  say  at  the  outset,  is  not 
to  keep  the  airship  from  going  high  in  the  air, 
but  to  prevent  it  falling  into  the  sea.  For  a 
long  voyage  one  must  reckon  upon  remaining 
six  to  ten  days  in  the  air.  That  is  the  time  we 
calculated  would  be  necessary  for  crossing  the 
Atlantic. 

Now,  with  the  lower  temperature  of  every 
night  the  gas  cools  and  contracts,  thus  diminish- 

245 


246  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

ing  the  volume  of  gas  in  the  balloon.  Air  must 
be  pumped  within  the  interior  reservoirs  or  bal- 
loonets  so  that  the  balloon  part  of  the  airship 
may  preserve  its  form.  Air  weighs  about  1.2 
ounces  per  cubic  foot.  The  more  air  pumped 
in,  the  heavier  the  contents  of  the  ship.  But, 
so  far  as  the  buoyancy  or  lifting  force  of  the 
balloon  is  concerned,  it  makes  no  difference 
whether  air  is  or  is  not  injected.  With  air 
pumped  in,  the  contents  of  the  balloon  have 
greater  weight.  Without  air  in,  the  balloon, 
shrinking  with  contraction  of  the  gas,  displaces 
just  so  much  smaller  volume  of  air,  and  there- 
fore lifts  just  so  much  less.  It  is  as  broad  as 
it  is  long  in  its  effect  upon  the  lift  of  the  ship. 
In  other  words,  the  volume  of  air  which  equals 
the  shrinkage  of  gas  weighs  the  same  whether  it 
is  within  or  outside  the  balloon.  But  it  is  nec- 
essary to  put  air  in  so  that  the  form  of  the  bal- 
loon may  be  preserved;  and  this  is  necessary  to 
keep  down  resistance  and  to  make  sure  that  the 
suspension  works  normally. 

When  the  gas  contracts  during  the  night  and 
the  balloon  loses  lifting  force  it  is  obvious  the 
airship  will  go  down  into  the  sea  unless  the  load 
carried  upon  it  be  diminished  to  the  extent  of 
the  lost  buoyancy.  Without  an  equilibrator, 
this  weight  must  be  thrown  overboard — sand,  or 
water,  or  gasoline,  or  something.  Once  over- 


THE  FAMOUS  EQUILIBRATOR     247 

board,  it  is  lost,  and  cannot  be  recovered.  If 
you  must  repeat  this  process  of  lightening  ship 
by  throwing  over  ballast  every  night  you  are  out, 
it  is  apparent  that  for  a  long  voyage  the  total 
weight  to  be  carried  for  this  purpose  rises  to 
high  figures. 

But  with  an  equilibrator,  or  trailing  device, 
instead  of  throwing  ballast  overboard,  you  per- 
mit your  trailer  to  descend  upon  the  surface  of 
the  sea  and  float  there.  The  ship  is  relieved  of 
that  much  load,  but  the  ballast  is  not  lost;  it 
may  be  used  over  and  over  again.  The  same 
weights  used  Monday  night  to  lighten  ship  are 
used  Tuesday  night,  and  Wednesday  night,  and 
so  on  throughout  your  voyage.  Moreover,  these 
same  weights  are  useful  during  the  day  to  pre- 
vent the  ship  going  too  high  when  under  the 
hot  sun  the  gas  expands,  lifting  force  rapidly 
increases,  and  the  ship  rises.  As  she  goes  up 
she  must  lift  more  and  more  of  the  trailer  and 
thus  take  upon  herself  more  and  more  load. 

As  already  explained,  I  had  suggested  and 
experimented  in  the  polar  regions  with  devices 
built  to  serve  this  function.  The  first  equilibra- 
tor for  use  in  the  Arctic  was  a  series  of  steel 
reservoirs  or  tanks.  Then  we  tried  the  leather 
serpent  in  two  voyages,  with  the  results  described 
in  previous  chapters.  For  the  transatlantic  trip 
we  came  again  to  the  steel  tanks. 


248  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

This  latest  equilibrator  consists  of  a  series  of 
steel  reservoirs,  each  about  four  feet  long  and 
nine  inches  in  diameter. 

Each  reservoir  has  a  tube  lengthwise  through 
its  center,  and  all  of  them — there  are  thirty  in  all 
—are  strung  upon  a  staunch  steel  cable  passed 
through  these  tubes.  Each  reservoir  is  concave 
at  its  forward  end  and  convex  at  the  other,  so 
that  one  fits  into  the  other  like  a  cup  joint,  which 
is  padded  with  felt  to  take  up  shocks  and  prevent 
wear  and  abrasion.  A  special  clamp  holds  each 
tank  to  the  cable  at  the  required  place,  and  the 
cup-like  joints  give  to  the  series  great  flexibility 
and  ease  of  adaptation  to  the  surface  of  the  sea 
waves. 

All  of  the  reservoirs  are  filled  with  gasoline, 
and  each  tank  and  its  contents  has  a  weight  of 
about  100  pounds.  Gasoline  is  not  put  here  be- 
cause we  wish  to  carry  fuel  in  this  manner,  but 
because  the  equilibrator,  to  be  effective  for  the 
purpose  for  which  it  was  designed,  must  have  a 
certain  weight,  and  it  is  far  better  to  have  that 
weight  made  up  largely  of  a  useful  material 
rather  than  of  such  dead  weights  as  steel  or 
wood. 

The  whole  is  so  arranged  that  after  the  gaso- 
line carried  in  big  steel  tank  of  the  car  shall  have 
been  exhausted  the  reserve  supply  in  these  reser- 
voirs becomes  available,  one  tank  after  another 


THE  AMERICA  AFTER  THE  ACCIDENT  — 1909. 


THE  FAMOUS  EQUILIBRATOR     249 

being  lifted  up  to  the  engine  room  and  its  con- 
tents utilized  in  the  motors. 

Before  we  set  out  upon  our  voyage  across  the 
Atlantic,  I  wrote  as  follows  concerning  the  equil- 
ibrator: 

"The  reader  will  readily  understand  the  pur- 
pose for  which  this  strange  device  was  con- 
structed. More  than  300  feet  in  length,  with  a 
total  weight  of  nearly  two  tons,  its  lower  end 
will  ride  upon  the  surface  of  the  sea.  This  lower 
end  is  composed  of  forty  solid  wooden  blocks 
tapering  to  a  very  small  diameter,  much  like  the 
tail  of  a  snake. 

"The  wooden  blocks,  and  the  steel  tanks  as 
well,  are  buoyant  and  flexible,  and  the  whole  will 
swim  in  the  wake  of  the  America,,  partly  upon 
the  surface  of  the  sea,  partly  lifted  in  the  air — 
a  giant  steel  sea  serpent  with  a  wooden  tail,  its 
head  erect,  and  making  for  Europe  as  convoy  of 
the  first  ship  of  the  air  ever  seen  over  the  waters 
of  the  broad  ocean. 

"Suppose  half  of  our  great  snake  of  steel,  his 
belly  full  of  gasoline,  is  upon  the  water,  and  half 
in  the  air.  Night  comes  on;  the  gas  cools;  rain 
falls;  the  conditions  already  described  are  upon 
us;  the  America  droops  more  and  more  to  the 
sea.  As  she  goes  downward  one  after  the  other 
of  the  constituent  steel  tubes  of  the  serpent  is 
deposited  upon  the  surface  of  the  ocean.  For 


250  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

every  four  feet  of  descent  the  ship  is  relieved  of 
100  pounds  of  weight  plus  the  slight  weight  of 
the  cable;  and  this  continues  until  she  is  again 
balanced  in  the  air,  perhaps  the  greater  part  of 
the  equilibrator  now  floating  along  behind  us. 

"In  the  morning  the  sun  rises  bright  and  hot. 
The  reverse  process  follows — the  expanding  gas 
sends  the  ship  upward.  As  she  rises  one  after 
another  of  the  steel  reservoirs  must  be  lifted  from 
the  sea,  100  pounds  more  weight  upon  the  ship 
for  every  four  feet  of  her  ascent. 

"Thus  the  steel  serpent  becomes  an  automatic 
governor  upon  the  upward  and  downward  move- 
ments of  the  ship  due  to  meteorological  changes. 
Hence  the  name  'equilibrator,'  or  'stabilizator/ 
The  huge  snake  and  its  valuable  stuffing  is  really 
ballast  which  may  be  used  over  and  over  again 
without  ever  losing  it. 

"It  is  unnecessary  to  carry  sand  or  water  to 
throw  overboard.  Our  serpent,  if  he  behaves  as 
well  as  a  well-made  reptile  ought,  should  hold 
the  America  at  an  altitude  of  from  150  to  250 
feet  above  the  ocean,  save  us  ballast — which 
means  fuel — on  one  hand,  save  us  gas  on  the 
other,  and  enable  us  to  prolong  the  voyage  from 
the  forty-eight  hours  practicable  without  a  ser- 
pent to  the  seven  or  nine  or  ten  days  which  may 
be  required  for  crossing  the  Atlantic. 

"How  will  this  equilibrator  serpent  work  in 


THE  FAMOUS  EQUILIBRATOR     251 

the  rough  sea?  We  confess  we  do  not  know. 
We  believe — but  are  not  quite  sure — that  it  will 
be  so  'soft'  upon  the  waves  as  to  give  us  little 
trouble  in  the  way  of  shocks  or  jerks  upon  the 
airship.  We  have  tried  the  same  principle 
over  the  Arctic  Sea,  and  there  the  device  rode 
smoothly,  and  being  a  continuous  body  made  no 
considerable  resistance  of  the  progress  of  the 
ship  towing  it. 

"But  the  Arctic  waters  were  not  rough,  and  we 
are  very  curious  as  to  how  our  new  and  improved 
sea  serpent  will  behave  upon  the  Atlantic.  Will 
he  serve  or  sting  us?  At  any  rate,  a  voyage  of 
3,500  miles  by  airship  is  impracticable  without 
the  aid  of  some  such  device;  and  this  one  is 
the  best  we  can  do  out  of  our  experience  and 
study." 

According  to  the  original  plan,  only  a  small 
part^of  the  serpent  was  expected  to  float  upon 
the  surface  of  the  ocean.  In  other  words,  under 
normal  conditions  the  lower  end  of  the  tail — a 
few  of  the  wooden  blocks — was  to  be  skimming 
the  crest  of  the  waves.  Or,  the  trailer  might 
be  entirely  out  of  water.  It  is  always  easy  to 
prevent  an  airship  going  high.  That  is  done  by 
simply  pulling  the  valve  and  letting  out  a  little 
gas.  This  is  not  an  unnecessary  loss  of  gas,  be- 
cause with  a  hot  sun  the  gas  will  expand  and 
a  part  of  it  be  lost,  anyway;  and  by  keeping  the 


252  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

ship  down  to  a  low  level  we  avoid  the  further 
loss  of  gas  which  comes  from  the  expansion  due 
to  diminution  of  atmospheric  pressure  as  you  as- 
cend from  the  surface  of  the  earth.  This  loss 
is  very  great. 

At  the  level  of  the  sea  the  normal  pressure  of 
the  atmosphere  is  760  millimeters  (29.92  inches) 
of  mercury.  If  you  ascend  1000  meters,  or 
3,280  feet,  atmospheric  pressure  drops  to  670 
millimeters  (26.38  inches)  of  mercury.  In  other 
words,  the  pressure  of  the  air  upon  all  the  sur- 
face of  a  balloon  or  airship  is  reduced  in  the 
proportion  of  90  to  760,  or  nearly  one-eighth, 
and,  assuming  that  the  temperature  remains  the 
same,  you  have  therefore  lost  nearly  one-eighth 
of  all  the  contents  of  your  balloon  from  this 
cause  alone. 

The  valves  of  your  balloon  are  set  by  springs 
to  open  automatically  at  a  certain  pressure. 
The  first  to  open,  because  set  for  a  smaller  pres- 
sure, are  the  air-valves.  And  if  there  is  that 
much  air  in  the  inner  reservoirs,  an  airship  of 
the  size  of  the  America  would  lose  43,000  cubic 
feet  of  gas  from  diminution  of  atmospheric 
pressure  in  taking  an  altitude  of  3,300  feet,  and 
the  weight  of  this  volume  of  air  is  3,225  pounds. 
This  is  precisely  what  happened  to  our  airship 
the  third  day  of  our  voyage  over  the  Atlantic, 
when  the  ship  took  an  altitude  of  about  3000  feet, 


THE  FAMOUS  EQUILIBRATOR     253 

lifting  the  equilibrator  and  all  high  in  the  air, 
due  to  sun  heat  and  expansion  by  altitude. 

We  realized  from  the  first  that  to  have  a  ser- 
pent weighing  3750  pounds  all  the  time  trailing 
in  the  sea  would  retard  the  progress  of  the  air- 
ship, probably  interfere  seriously  with  her  steer- 
ing, and  by  its  drag-effect  and  its  leaping  from 
wave  to  wave  in  heavy  seas  tend  to  strain  the 
airship  and  pull  it  down  toward  the  surface  of 
the  ocean.  All  this  we  knew  nearly  as  well  be- 
fore the  voyage  as  we  did  during  and  after  the 
voyage.  For  the  equilibrator  we  have  been  much 
criticized. 

But  we  never  intended  to  use  it  the  way  in 
which  it  was  used.  We  had  planned  to  start  the 
voyage  with  not  more  than  one-half  of  the  equili- 
brator upon  the  surface  of  the  sea — 1,500  to  1,800 
pounds.  Each  24  hours  we  reckoned  to  lift  500 
or  600  pounds  of  this  on  account  of  burning  so 
much  gasoline  in  the  motors.  If  this  plan  could 
have  been  carried  out,  the  serpent  would  not 
have  interfered  with  the  successful  navigation  of 
the  airship.  The  small  part  of  it  down  upon 
the  sea  would  not  have  given  us  any  trouble, 
or  very  little.  And  after  the  first  day  the  equili- 
brator would  have  worked  precisely  as  it  was 
designed  to  work — that  is,  carried  chiefly  in  the 
air,  suspended  vertically,  as  a  reserve  weight  to 
be  used  in  keeping  the  airship  from  going  down 


254  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

to  the  ocean  whenever  the  cold  or  other  condi- 
tions greatly  diminished  the  lifting  force  of  the 
balloon. 

Circumstances  which  we  could  not  control 
changed  this  plan  materially  and  unfavorably. 
I  shall  tell  frankly  what  these  circumstances 
were. 


CHAPTER  XXXII      • 

THE   WEIGHT    PROBLEM    IN    AERONAUTICS 

The  design  of  the  transatlantic  airship  was 
carefully  made.  It  was  symmetrical,  well-bal- 
anced, effective  engineering.  Everything  was 
taken  into  account — the  distance,  the  speed  of 
the  ship,  the  probable  effect  of  the  winds,  the 
total  lifting  force,  the  quantity  of  fuel  that 
would  be  needed.  To  meet  all  these  requirements 
the  balloon  was  enlarged  in  the  spring  of  1910. 
Forty-one  feet  were  added  to  its  length  in  the 
mid-section,  increasing  the  volume  87,000  cubic 
feet,  and  the  total  lifting  force  nearly  three  tons. 
With  this  enlargement  we  calculated  upon  being 
able  to  carry  9,000  pounds  of  gasoline,  the  life- 
boat, a  crew  of  six  men,  in  addition,  of  course, 
to  the  ship  and  all  her  machinery,  and  to  start 
with  not  more  than  one-half  of  the  equilibrator 
upon  the  sea. 

For  one  who  knows  the  aeronautic  art  and 
the  mathematics  of  it  in  all  its  branches,  it  is 
not  difficult  to  prepare  a  good  plan.  My  design 
was  good.  The  difficult  thing  is  the  execution 
of  it.  In  an  airship,  even  more  sharply  than  in 

255 


256  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

a  steamship  or  land  vehicle,  limitation  of  weight 
is  the  essence  of  life  and  success.  If  you  can- 
not build  within  the  predetermined  weights  per- 
haps youVould  do  better  not  to  build  at  all;  for 
then  you  will  escape  much  trouble  and  disap- 
pointment. 

Probably  it  is  possible  to  find  mechanics  and 
constructors  who  can  take  a  rational  engineering 
plan  and  carry  it  out  pretty  close  to  the  schedule 
of  weight  and  cost,  but  I  have  never  been  for- 
tunate enough  to  find  one.  When  the  work  is 
finished,  it  is  invariably  found  that  weights  have 
overrun,  and  cost  has  greatly  exceeded  estimates. 
In  both  particulars  one  learns  to  allow  a  fair 
margin,  but  even  a  liberal  margin  does  not  seem 
to  assure  protection  against  having  good  plans 
marred  or  spoiled  by  faulty  execution. 

From  an  airship  voyage  over  the  Arctic 
Ocean  in  August,  1909,  to  a  steamship  race  up 
the  White  Nile  almost  to  the  equator  in  March, 
1910,  was  a  rather  quick  transition,  a  pretty  far 
cry. 

After  the  plan  of  our  transocean  voyage  had 
been  agreed  upon,  and  the  actual  work  started, 
it  was  necessary  for  me  to  go  up  the  Nile  to 
meet  ex-President  Roosevelt.  In  the  course  of 
that  journalistic  assignment  it  became  a  part  of 
my  duty  to  hire  a  special  steamer  and  race  rival 
newspaper  men  several  hundred  miles  above 


BOAT'S  CREW  FROM  THE   FARM  ATTACHING  THE  TOW  LINE   TO  THE 

AMERICA. 


THE  WEIGHT  PROBLEM      257 

Khartum  for  the  satisfaction  of  being  the  first 
to  meet  the  ex-President — a  race  which  I  won 
with  several  hours  to  spare.  Col.  Roosevelt  and 
I  had  breakfasted  together  aboard  his  steamer 
going  down  the  Nile,  after  breakfast  had  sat 
down  and  settled  all  the  affairs  of  all  the  nations 
to  our  mutual  satisfaction,  and  I  had  written 
my  cablegram  describing  the  race  and  my  lit- 
tle triumph  before  the  smoke  of  my  rivals'  boat 
was  seen  down  the  river,  puffing  toward  us  as 
fast  as  she  could  with  a  party  of  very  much  dis- 
comfited journalists  aboard  her. 

While  up  the  Nile  with  Roosevelt  a  cable 
message  informed  me  something  had  gone  wrong 
with  the  arrangements  for  our  transatlantic 
airship  trip.  A  misunderstanding  had  arisen 
which  free  use  of  the  cable  at  fifty  cents  per 
word  did  not  serve  to  straighten  out.  It  was 
not  till  after  I  had  accompanied  the  ex-Presi- 
dent all  through  Europe  to  London,  and  myself 
reached  America  early  in  June,  that  the  misun- 
derstanding was  removed.  This  delay  cost  us 
dearly.  Mr.  Vaniman,  who  had  been  in  charge 
of  our  construction  work,  though  not  an  engi- 
neer in  the  true  sense,  is  a  clever  mechanic  and 
foreman,  and  had  done  the  best  he  could  under 
the  discouraging  circumstances.  Being  com- 
pelled to  build  hurriedly,  perhaps  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  he  was  not  as  careful  about  the 


258  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

weights  as  he  should  have  been,  and  as  he  prob- 
ably would  have  been  under  other  and  more 
favorable  conditions,  though,  like  all  mechanics 
executing  the  designs  and  working  to  the  cal- 
culations of  another,  he  is  naturally  more  keen 
about  strength  than  for  adhering  closely  to  a 
wreight  schedule. 

For  important  parts  of  the  mechanical  and 
aeronautic  equipment  he  was  compelled  to  rely 
upon  contractors  and  various  factories,  and  when 
they  overran  the  stipulated  weights  no  time  was 
left  for  rebuilding  to  cut  weights  down.  An 
example  is  found  in  the  weight  of  the  lifeboat 
carried  upon  the  America.  I  had  stipulated 
that  its  weight  should  not  exceed  1,000  pounds. 
The  builder  undertook  to  keep  within  that  limit ; 
the  boat  when  finished  was  reported  to  weigh 
800  pounds.  When  we  put  it  upon  the  scales  at 
Atlantic  City  we  found  its  weight  was  just  twice 
as  much! 

So  it  went  with  many  things — so  many  that 
by  the  time  the  great  airship  had  been  assembled 
and  made  ready  for  a  voyage  it  was  found  she 
was  about  4,000  pounds  short  of  the  net  lifting 
force  the  designs  called  for.  Instead  of  carry- 
ing 9,000  pounds  of  gasoline  for  the  motors,  the 
total  was  about  5,500.  And  much  of  that  was 
in  the  tanks  of  the  equilibrator,  from  which  not 
a  gallon  was  ever  drawn  during  the  voyage. 


THE  WEIGHT  PROBLEM       259 

Worse  still,  in  order  to  have  enough  lifting  force 
to  carry  gasoline  in  the  big  steel  reservoir  of  the 
car — its  capacity  was  1,300  gallons,  and  we 
started  with  the  reservoir  about  one-third  full- 
it  was  necessary  to  lift  less  of  the  serpent  than 
the  plan  called  for;  and  thus  we  began  the 
voyage  with  almost  all  of  the  equilibrator 
down  upon  the  water,  instead  of  only  one-half 
pf  it. 

These  facts  are  cited,  not  in  any  effort  to  es- 
cape my  individual  responsibility,  nor  as  an 
apology,  but  only  to  show  how  circumstances 
sometimes  press  one  into  a  venture  with  the 
preparations  falling  far  short  of  his  plans  and 
ideals;  and  how  duty  at  times  compels  a  man 
to  take  an  imperfect  apparatus,  and  without  a 
word  of  explanation  or  reproach  or  repining,  go 
out  with  it  and  do  the  best  he  can,  no  matter 
at  what  cost  or  risk. 

Long  before  we  were  ready  to  leave  Atlantic 
City  for  the  voyage  over  the  ocean  it  was  real- 
ized the  plan  had  not  been  adequately  executed, 
and  that  we  must  start  under  this  great  handicap 
of  overweight.  It  was  impossible  to  change  the 
construction;  and  the  overload  must  be  endured. 
Still,  there  was  not  the  first  or  faintest  thought 
of  failing  to  start.  In  fact,  eagerness  to  be  off 
instead  of  hesitation  to  go,  was  the  predominant 
note  from  first  to  last.  All  the  tales  told  in  the 


260  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

press  to  the  contrary  were  fantastic  fakes  created 
wholly  out  of  the  imagination  without  the  slight- 
est basis  or  foundation  in  fact  or  incident  or 
word. 

It  did  take  a  long,  an  unexpectedly  long  time 
to  prepare  the  America  for  her  voyage.  It  is 
not  surprising  that  many  spectators  became  im- 
patient as  the  weeks  dragged  along.  But  the 
work  was  complex  and  difficult,  and  required 
patience.  It  was  not  easy  to  find  skilled  me- 
chanics, though  we  paid  high  wages  and  scurried 
right  and  left  for  efficient  men.  In  July,  Mr. 
Vaniman  had  cabled  me  from  Paris  he  could 
have  the  America  ready  for  a  voyage  in  six  days 
after  his  arrival  in  Atlantic  City,  provided  he 
could  have  two  more  weeks  in  Paris.  I  gave 
him  one  more  week  in  Paris,  and  then  he  shipped 
the  balloon,  the  unfinished  car  and  machinery  to 
the  United  States.  He  and  his  experts  and  a 
large  staff  of  general  helpers  began  the  work  of 
assembling  August  9th.  But  so  many  and  great 
were  the  difficulties  in  the  way  that  the  task  was 
not  completed  and  the  airship  ready  to  be  taken 
out  till  the  afternoon  of  October  12th.  Through- 
out all  this  period  every  one  of  us  worked  with 
all  possible  energy  to  hasten  the  operation,  and 
it  was  rather  unkind,  to  say  the  least,  of  the 
"fake  and  snake"  part  of  the  press  to  represent 


THE  WEIGHT  PROBLEM      261 

us  as  seeking  delay  when  we  were  breaking  our 
hearts  because  things  did  not  go  faster. 

The  America  started  on  her  voyage  within  60 
hours  after  she  was  ready. 

She  started  from  a  huge  balloon  house  which 
had  been  erected  at  a  cost  of  $12,000  by  the 
enterprising  members  of  the  Aero  Club  of  At- 
lantic City.  These  men  had  invested  their  money 
for  the  promotion  of  a  great  scientific  project. 
They  did  not  expect  to  get  their  money  back 
from  the  small  admission  fee,  and  in  fact  they 
did  not.  During  all  the  long  period  of  prep- 
aration they  were  patient  and  fair.  They  were 
more  interested  in  the  attainment  of  a  scientific 
success  than  in  the  commercial  side  of  the  ven- 
ture. 

The  cause  of  aeronautic  progress  owes  much 
to  such  men  as  Joseph  W.  Salus,  Albert  T.  Bell, 
Harry  B.  Cook,  Daniel  S.  White,  John  J. 
White,  J.  Haines  Lippincott,  Louis  Kuehnle, 
Henry  W.  Leeds,  Charles  D.  White,  Walter  J. 
Buzby,  Dr.  J.  B.  Thompson,  Walter  E.  Edge, 
P.  E.  Lane,  John  Vogler,  S.  P.  Leeds  and  many 
others.  They  are  fine  types  of  American  busi- 
ness men — men  who  have  broad  views  and  a  gen- 
erous public  spirit. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

PROBLEMS    OF    AERIAL   NAVIGATION 

The  navigation  of  an  airship  out  of  sight  of 
land  involves  problems  somewhat  different  from 
those  attending  the  navigation  of  a  ship  upon  the 
water.  All  these  problems  had  our  most  careful 
study.  For  example,  in  every  observation  of  a 
heavenly  body  for  ship's  position  the  height  of 
the  eye  above  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  an  im- 
portant factor,  provided  the  sea  horizon  be  used 
as  the  base  of  the  observed  angle.  In  the  books 
on  navigation  corrections  for  this  "dip"  of  the 
horizon  are  carried  only  to  a  hundred  feet.  I 
carried  our  table  to  6,000  feet. 

In  fact,  I  worked  out  an  elaborate  system  for 
the  navigation  department  wrhich  surprised  and 
delighted  many  old  navigators  who  saw  it.  I 
made  special  charts,  a  log  book  adopted  to  aerial 
conditions,  and  found  it  necessary  to  work  up 
many  special  tables  and  calculations  fitting  the 
peculiar  task  of  taking  astronomical  observations 
and  working  dead  reckoning  in  the  air.  We 
even  built  some  special  instruments  for  taking 
the  altitude  of  heavenly  bodies. 

With  these,  and  also  with  the  ordinary  sextant, 
262 


PROBLEMS  OF  NAVIGATION     263 

we  were  prepared  to  take  observations  of  the 
sun,  stars,  moon,  and  planets  as  do  other  navi- 
gators, for  latitude,  longitude,  time,  and  com- 
pass corrections  by  azimuth.  But  we  had  this 
advantage — there  was  no  need  of  our  working 
with  seconds  of  time  or  arc.  The  refinements  of 
navigation  meant  little  to  us. 

We  aimed  at  no  particular  port  or  even  coun- 
try. We  feared  no  collisions  with  other  ships, 
except  that  we  did  not  care  to  have  our  serpent 
run  foul  of  a  vessel.  It  was  not  necessary  for 
us  to  avoid  rocks  or  shoals.  Navigation  "to  the 
nearest  minute"  was  quite  good  enough  for  our 
needs,  or  five  or  ten  minutes  of  arc,  for  that  mat- 
ter, as  it  made  little  difference  whether  we  were 
a  half  dozen  or  a  dozen  miles  more  or  less  to  the 
northward  or  eastward. 

Navigation  of  an  airship  is  different  from  that 
of  a  steamship  in  other  important  particulars. 
A  steamship  will  pretty  closely  follow  her  head ; 
an  airship  will  not.  If,  for  example,  we  are 
steering  east  and  making  twenty  miles  an  hour, 
and  a  wind  of  twenty  miles  per  hour  is  blowing 
from  the  north,  the  actual  course  of  our  craft 
over  the  sea  is  not  eastward,  but  to  the  southeast 
— a  component  of  the  two  forces,  one  the  move- 
ment of  the  ship  due  to  the  operation  of  her  en- 
gines, the  other  her  drift  with  the  wind  as  a 
vessel  may  drift  in  a  current. 


264  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

An  airship  can  theoretically  head  into  or  take 
any  desired  angle  to  any  wind,  no  matter  what 
its  force,  up  to  the  limit  of  the  propulsive  energy 
of  the  screws.  But  the  actual  course  the  ship 
makes  cannot  be  told  by  the  compass  alone  if  a 
wrind  is  blowing,  nor  can  we  know  from  what 
quarter  and  with  what  velocity  the  wind  comes 
until  we  have  ascertained  the  ship's  course  and 
speed. 

To  do  this  we  must  have  a  point  of  reference 
upon  the  earth  itself — -it  cannot  be  had  from  the 
air  alone.  So  we  note  by  the  compass  the  wake 
of  the  equilibrator  as  it  moves  over  the  water,  or 
trails  behind  us  in  the  sea,  a  fine  wire  a  mile  or 
more  in  length.  It  moves  an  indicator  upon  a 
dial  in  the  navigating  room,  where  the  steering 
wheel  and  compass  are  placed,  and  the  angle  of 
this  indicator  shows  whether  we  are  following 
our  direct  course  or  swerving  from  it. 

For  dead  reckoning  we  must  depend  upon  the 
leeway  indicator  for  direction  and  the  old-fash- 
ioned harpoon  log  for  speed,  casting  the  log  at 
frequent  intervals,  then  pulling  it  in  and  reading 
its  dial.  This  log  is  a  tube  of  metal  about  two 
inches  in  diameter  and  two  and  one-half  feet 
long,  shaped  like  a  harpoon,  its  after  end  fin- 
shaped,  revolving  according  to  its  velocity 
through  the  water  as  it  is  towed  at  the  end  of  a 


PROBLEMS  OF  NAVIGATION     265 

long  line,  the  number  of  revolutions  being  marked 
upon  a  dial  indicator. 

Given  the  head  of  the  ship  by  the  standard 
compass,  the  actual  course  by  the  leeway  line, 
the  approximate  speed  by  the  harpoon  log,  and 
the  normal  speed  of  the  ship  in  still  air,  a  com- 
ponent of  all  these  factors  will  enable  us  to  as- 
certain the  direction  and  force  of  the  prevailing 
wind. 

These  are  not  simple  problems.  Dead  reckon- 
ing under  ordinary  conditions,  must  be  only  a 
rough  one,  and  under  unfavorable  conditions 
would  be  of  small  value.  Without  occasional 
astronomical  observations  we  should  at  times  be 
at  considerable  loss  to  know  just  where  we  were. 

We  have  had  some  experience  with  airships, 
and  the  America  seemed  to  us  a  pretty  staunch 
ship-like  craft.  She  was  well  arranged  and  well 
equipped,  as  aircraft  go.  In  the  forward  part 
of  the  car  was  the  navigating  deck — the  bridge. 
Here  were  the  compass  binnacle,  the  leeway  in- 
dicator, the  steering  wheel.  From  the  latter  the 
rudder  cables  ran  to  the  stern  and  moved  the 
wonderful  triplane  rudder  built  of  steel  tubing 
and  varnished  canvas — light  as  a  feather  and 
strong  as  a  young  ox.  Here  also  were  carried 
the  meteorograph,  barograph,  thermograph,  sta- 
toscope,  manometer,  and  other  instruments. 


266  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Nearby  was  one  of  the  two  winches  which 
worked  the  equilibrator  cables.  Celluloid  win- 
dows gave  outlook,  and  the  canvas  enclosure 
protected  the  crew  from  wind  and  weather. 

Speaking  tubes  led  to  the  engine  room,  just 
aft,  where  two  men  were  expected  to  be  always 
on  duty.  Here,  in  addition  to  the  two  driving 
engines  already  spoken  of,  was  a  10-12  horse- 
power motor,  our  donkey  or  service  engine,  used 
to  work  the  air-blower,  and  also  to  start  either 
of  the  larger  engines  without  cranking. 

Here  also  was  the  dynamo  which  operated  ten 
twelve-candle  power  electric  lights  distributed 
throughout  the  ship  and  in  the  lifeboat  swung 
underneath  the  car.  It  also  charged  the  accu- 
mulators in  the  lifeboat,  and  provided  power 
for  the  Marconi  wireless  installation,  which  was 
placed  in  the  lifeboat.  Fire  extinguishers  were 
hung  at  convenient  intervals  in  the  engine  room. 

The  Marconi  apparatus  used  approximately 
250  watts,  a  standard  ten-inch  Marconi  induc- 
tion coil  being  used  to  charge  the  condenser. 
With  this  small  amount  of  power  we  were  as- 
sured by  the  Marconi  Company  there  would  be 
no  danger  of  troublesome  sparking. 

The  steel  frame  of  the  car  was  used  as  the 
wireless  radiator,  and  the  equilibrator  cable  gave 
the  earth  connection  or  ground. 

J.  R.  Irwin,  an  Australian  by  birth,  long  in 


PROBLEMS  OF  NAVIGATION     267 

the  service  of  the  Marconi  Company,  and  lately 
running  on  the  St.  Louis,  was  the  wireless  oper- 
ator. He  was  selected  by  the  Company  out  of 
many  volunteers  on  account  of  his  skill  and 
pluck.  By  actual  test  this  Marconi  apparatus 
is  able  to  transmit  messages  seventy-five  miles, 
and  by  its  aid  we  hoped  to  keep  in  almost  daily 
communication  with  transatlantic  steamers,  and 
from  them  to  the  land. 

A  small  kite  was  carried  in  the  lifeboat,  for 
use  in  case  shipwreck  should  make  it  necessary 
for  the  crew  to  take  to  the  boat.  The  wireless 
apparatus  being  there,  and  the  accumulators,  the 
electrical  energy  stored  in  the  latter  could  be  util- 
ized in  sending  messages  for  help  to  passing 
steamers  by  sending  up  a  kite  with  a  fine  wire  to 
serve  as  an  aerial. 

The  lifeboat  used  in  the  voyage,  and  still  in 
existence,  is  twenty-seven  feet  long,  six  feet 
beam,  and  three  and  one-half  feet  depth  amid- 
ships. Each  end  is  decked  and  made  into  a 
large  watertight  compartment.  Midships  is  a 
cockpit,  protected  by  a  canopy.  This  staunch 
boat  was  built  by  Saunders  of  East  Cowes,  Isle 
of  Wight,  and  that  celebrated  builder  thinks  it 
the  finest  piece  of  work  he  has  ever  turned  out. 
The  hull  is  of  three  thicknesses  of  veneered 
mahogany  and  two  layers  of  canvas  stitched  to- 
gether, ribbed  and  strengthened.  In  the  bottom 


268  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

is  a  manhole  which  serves  two  purposes — one  to 
enable  us  while  the  airship  is  in  flight  to  bring  up 
from  below  the  reservoirs  of  gasoline  composing 
the  equilibrator,  the  other  to  bail  the  boat  auto- 
matically, in  case  of  need  after  she  has  taken  to 
the  water. 

Sailors  who  have  seen  this  lifeboat  admire  it 
very  much,  and  say  it  is  non-capsizable  and  non- 
sinkable.  It  is  equipped  with  mast  and  sail,  but 
not  with  a  motor. 

Its  chief  value  in  case  of  accident,  as  we 
planned,  was  to  keep  us  afloat  until  we  were 
picked  up  by  some  passing  vessel.  Even  if 
equipped  with  a  motor  it  would  not  be  practi- 
cable to  carry  enough  fuel  for  a  cruise  of  any 
considerable  length. 

Down  in  the  lifeboat  was  our  kitchen — a  gaso- 
line stove  with  aluminum  utensils.  We  carried 
provisions  and  fresh  water  for  thirty  days,  and 
most  of  these  were  stored  in  the  lifeboat.  Here 
also  were  kept  a  compass  and  other  instruments, 
so  that  the  craft  was  fully  equipped  and  ready 
for  use  at  any  moment. 

For  food  we  took  ship's  bread,  beans,  bacon, 
coffee,  Horlick's  malted  milk,  boiled  hams,  eggs, 
tinned  meats.  The  lifeboat  was  also  the  smok- 
ing room  of  the  ship;  and  in  it  were  two  beds. 
Two  more  hammock-line  bunks  were  in  the  car 
near  the  engine  room. 


PROBLEMS  OF  NAVIGATION     269 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  if  we  had  wished  to 
do  so  we  could  install  thirty  or  forty  beds  in  the 
steel  car,  small  as  it  appears  in  comparison  with 
the  great  gas  reservoir  overhead.  We  did  not 
carry  a  doctor,  but  depended  upon  a  Burroughs, 
Wellcome  &  Company  field  medical1  and  surgical 
case,  which  in  the  past  we  have  found  so  valuable 
in  the  Arctic  regions.  Howard  watches,  which 
I  had  also  used  in  the  difficult  conditions  of  the 
far  north  with  admirable  results,  gave  us  most 
accurate  time. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE,  WEIGHTS   OF   A   BIG   AIRSHIP 

The  airship  America  was  so  large  that  if  we 
had  wished  to  do  so  we  could  have  dispensed 
with  the  lifeboat,  the  provisions,  most  of  the 
fuel  and  lubricant  for  the  motors,  and,  on  a  short 
cruise,  could  have  carried  40  passengers.  Many 
applications  for  places  in  the  ship  were  received, 
and  a  surprisingly  large  number  of  people  were 
willing  to  risk  their  lives  in  our  craft.  If  time 
had  permitted  the  making  of  short  trial  trips, 
it  is  probable  we  should  have  taken  a  few  pas- 
sengers-— not  for  pay,  but  solely  through  desire 
to  give  some  of  our  friends  a  novel  and  enjoy- 
able experience.  But  there  was  no  opportunity 
for  trial  trips  if  we  were  to  get  started  upon  our 
long  voyage. 

The  total  lifting  force  of  the  airship  was  23,- 
650  pounds — almost  12  tons.  It  is  a  curious 
circumstance  that  the  same  ship  would  have 
lifted  1,900  pounds  more,  or  a  total  of  25,550 
pounds,  if  inflated  at  our  headquarters  in  Spitz- 
bergen,  where  the  prevailing  summer  tempera- 
ture is  32°  Fahrenheit,  and  the  air  displaced 

270 


THE  LOAD  CARRIED  271 

has  a  weight  of  1.293  kilos  per  meter  cube,  in- 
steafl  of  1.200  kilos  per  meter  cube  at  the  higher 
average  temperature  of  the  Atlantic  Coast, 
which  we  assumed  at  70°  Fahrenheit. 

Approximately   the   weights   carried    by   the 
America  were  as  follows: 

The  airship  and  its  equipment — 

THE  AIRSHIP  AND  ITS  EQUIPMENT —  Pounds. 

Balloon  part,  complete 4,900 

Steel  car  and  canvas  cover 5,500 

Propeller  frames  500 

Rudder  . , 200 

Steel  gauze  and  asbestos 250 

Compass  binnacle,  steering  wheel 150 

Miscellaneous  500 

E  N  V  motor,  complete 800 

Lorraine-Dietrich  motor,  complete 1,050 

.  Small  motor  250 

Air  blower 125 

Winches  and  cables  150 

Instruments,  bedding,  kitchen  .  . 250 

Wireless  equipment 300 

Electric  light 250 

Tools,  extra  parts,  etc 200 

Lifeboat,  complete,  with  rig 1 ,700 

Miscellaneous  4-25 

Total    17,500 

CONSUMABLE  CARGO — 

Gasoline  in  large  reservoir 2,950 

Lubricant  in  the  car 450 


272  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Pounds. 

Water  in  the  car 300 

Provisions  in  the  car.  .  300 


Total    4,000 

Crew  of  six  men,  spare  clothing,  etc 1,150 

Buoyant  force  at  start 350 

Equilibrator  and  cable,  at  start 650 


Grand  total 23,650 

IN  THE  EQUILIBRATOR — 

Gasoline    2,700 

Weight  of  tanks  and  cable 1,050 


3,750 

The  total  weight  of  material  in  the  entire 
equipment  as  the  airship  started  on  her  voyage 
was : 

The  ship  and  machinery,  etc 17,500 

Hydrogen  in  the  balloon 2,150 

Fuel,  lubricant,  provisions  and  fresh  water  6,700 

Crew  and  clothing 1,150 

Equilibrator  tanks  and., cables 1,050 

Grand  total 28,550 

Before  we  set  out  from  Atlantic  City  on  our 
voyage  we  were  often  asked  if  we  regarded  the 
trip  as  a  dangerous  one.  My  reply  was: 

"We  do  not  know.     That  there  is  in  it  some 


THE  LOAD  CARRIED  273 

risk  to  life  is  apparent.  How  great  this  risk 
must  remain  an  unknown  quantity  till  we  have 
put  it  to  the  test.  Once  well  on  our  way,  the 
danger  of  fire  or  explosion  will  be  ever  present 
in  our  minds.  The  combination  of  a  ton  of  in- 
flammable hydrogen,  nearly  three  tons  of  gaso- 
line, sparking  motors,  electric  light,  and  wireless, 
is  not  one  to  inspire  perfect  confidence.  We  are 
exercising  all  possible  precautions,  with  our  steel 
gauze  and  asbestos  around  the  engines,  fire  ex- 
tinguishers at  hand,  the  gas  valve  placed  far  aft, 
and  the  exhaust  from  the  motors  carried  well  out 
from  the  gasoline  tank  and  into  the  area  of  air 
movement  from  the  propellers. 

"Lightning  may  strike  the  ship  and  fire  the 
hydrogen.  Our  equilibrator  may  not  ride  well 
in  heavy  seas  and  by  its  shocks  injure  the  airship. 
Or,  it  may  possibly  foul  some  ship  or  fishing 
vessel.  Both  engines  may  break  down. 

"We  go  prepared  to  make  all  small  repairs 
en  voyage.  It  is  barely  possible  a  propeller 
might  break  and  flying  parts  pierce  the  gas  bag 
and  wreck  the  ship — such  a  disaster  happened  to 
the  French  military  airship  La  Republique  a 
year  ago,  and  all  on  board  were  killed  when  the 
craft  crashed  to  earth.  But  the  propellers  of 
La  Republique  were  of  steel,  were  turned  at 
1,100  revolutions  per  minute,  and  crystallization 
doubtless  weakened  the  metal.  Our  propellers 


274  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

are  of  the  latest  and  best  French  type,  wooden, 
and  their  highest  velocity  is  750  turns  per  minute. 

"Contrary  to  all  calculations  the  gas  may  not 
hold  out  on  account  of  leaks  occurring  due  to  the 
vibration  or  straining  of  the  ship.  A  storm  may 
blow  us  far  out  of  our  course,  toward  the  Arctic 
or  the  Saragossa  Sea.  Persistent  head  winds 
may  drive  us  back  or  exhaust  our  fuel  supply 
and  leave  us  helpless  in  midocean.  All  these  are 
chances  which  we  take  with  open  eyes. 

"Sudden  disaster,  like  explosion  or  disruption 
of  the  gas  bag,  might  make  it  impossible  for  us 
to  enter  and  launch  the  lifeboat.  But  should  the 
life  of  the  airship  come  to  an  end  with  even  ten 
minutes'  warning,  the  lifeboat  is  available.  She 
is  hung  with  an  instantaneous  releasing  device, 
and  is  at  all  times  kept  fully  equipped. 

"It  is  true  that  if  the  America  were  to  plunge 
down  into  a  rough  sea  there  would  follow  an  awk- 
ward scramble  to  enter  and  cut  away  the  life- 
boat, but  we  believe  we  could  manage  it. 

"We  have  not  arranged  for  a  convoying 
steamer  because  the  chances  are  we  should  lose 
an  escort  the  first  or  second  night  out.  With 
a  westerly  or  southwesterly  breeze  of  twenty 
miles  per  hour  our  speed  eastward  would  be  forty 
miles  per  hour,  and,  of  course,  no  ship  could  keep 
up  with  us. 

"We  aim  to  follow  as  closely  as  we  can  the 


THE  LOAD  CARRIED  275 

steamer  lane  from  New  York  to  the  English 
Channel,  and  if  we  should  be  so  fortunate  as  to 
be  able  to  keep  fairly  on  the  course  help  would 
not  be  far  away  in  case  of  accident. 

"While  the  plan  is  to  follow  the  steamer  tracks 
the  best  we  can,  we  do  not  aim  to  make  a  landing 
at  any  particular  place,  nor  even  in  any  particu- 
lar country.  Any  spot  between  Gibraltar  and 
the  North  Cape  will  look  good  to  us." 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE    START OUT    OF   THE    BALLOON    HOUSE 

It  was  at  8  o'clock  Saturday  morning,  Octo- 
ber 15,  1910,  that  the  airship  America,  with  a 
crew  of  six  men  aboard,  set  out  from  Atlantic 
City  over  the  fog-surrounded  ocean,  headed  for 
Europe.  That  she  did  not  cross  the  ocean,  but 
did  make  a  memorable  voyage  of  three  days  and 
nights,  beating  all  records  of  airship  navigation 
for  distance  covered  and  duration  of  voyage,  is 
now  known  all  over  the  world. 

When  we  fared  forth  that  foggy  morning  we 
six  men  of  the  crew — myself  as  commander, 
Melvin  Vaniman  as  chief  engineer,  Louis  Loud 
and  Frederick  Aubert  as  assistant  engineers, 
Murray  Simon  as  navigator  and  Jack  Irwin, 
wireless  operator — had  very  little  idea  of  what 
was  to  happen  to  us  or  where  we  were  likely  to 
stop. 

We  knew  we  were  going  to  try  to  reach 
Europe;  we  knew  we  had  some  sort  of  a  chance 
—how  good  or  poor  a  chance  it  was  we  could  not 
calculate — to  do  so.  We  knew  we  were  engaged 
in  a  difficult  and  dangerous  scientific  experiment 
and  adventure,  one  which  was  the  more  fasci- 

276 


THE  START  277 

nating  because  it  was  difficult  and  dangerous; 
that  it  was  a  thing  worth  doing  for  itself  and 
what  it  might  lead  to  in  the  progress  of  the  arts ; 
that  it  was  not  foolhardy  because  all  possible  pre- 
cautions on  a  large  and  engineering  basis  had 
been  taken  to  assure  success  and  our  own  safety 
—all  advancement  in  aerial  navigation  is  at- 
tained at  some  risk;  that  it  was  not  merely  a 
sensational  feat,  because  a  high  and  worthy  pur- 
pose lay  behind  it;  and  that  like  many  other 
achievements  marking  man's  conquest  of  the  ele- 
ments, we  never  could  know  what  we  could  do 
till  we  tried. 

Despite  all  the  precautions  our  experience 
and  foresight  and  study  could  suggest,  we  were 
not  unmindful  of  the  risks  to  be  taken,  nor  of 
what  the  world  has  been  kind  enough  to  call  the 
daring  of  our  unique,  unprecedented  venture. 
But  we  were  filled  with  joy  to  have  our  chance 
for  whatever  it  might  be  worth. 

My  first  thought  was  one  of  pride  in  the  gal- 
lant men  of  my  crew.  Hundreds  had  volun- 
teered. Letters  and  cablegrams  and  telegrams 
had  been  sent  from  all  parts  of  the  world  by 
men  eager  to  go  in  the  America — aeronauts, 
engineers,  sailors,  motor-experts,  journalists, 
men  of  no  vocation  or  fitness,  cooks,  scientists, 
army  officers,  wireless  operators.  Applications 
had  come  from  England,  France,  Germany, 


278  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Russia,  Cuba,  Egypt,  South  America,  a  great 
number  from  the  United  States. 

But  the  men  who  had  been  chosen  were  well 
fitted  for  their  difficult  tasks,  were  personally 
known  to  me.  Vaniman  had  been  with  me  in 
two  aerial  voyages,  Loud  in  one  voyage,  and 
were  men  tried  and  true;  Aubert,  the  youngest 
man  in  the  party,  I  had  known  for  years,  and 
felt  every  confidence  in  him;  Simon  had  come 
to  us  from  the  White  Star  Steamship  Company, 
where  he  had  been  one  of  the  officers  of  the  great 
steamship  Oceanic,  and  his  long  experience,  his 
character  and  our  personal  contact  with  him  told 
us  he  was  the  man  we  wranted;  Jack  Irwin, 
an  Australian  by  birth,  a  man  who  had  been  in 
the  Zulu  and  Boer  wars,  of  late  wireless  operator 
on  the  steamship  St.  Louis,  and  the  man  who 
had  received  Jack  Binn's  famous  C.  D.  Q.  call 
from  the  sinking  Republic,  had  been  chosen  by 
the  Marconi  Wireless  Telegraph  Company  from 
among  a  host  of  volunteers,  and  we  never  doubted 
he  would  prove  to  be  the  right  man  in  the  right 
place. 

Glad  of  spirit  but  somewhat  weary  of  body 
were  we  half  dozen  men  when  we  took  our  part- 
ing dim  glimpse  of  the  gray,  mist-strewn  Jersey 
shore.  Glad,  because  we  were  at  last  on  the 
way.  Weary,  because  for  days  and  weeks  we 
had  all  been  under  nervous  and  physical  strain 


THE  START  279 

in  the  work  of  preparation,  and  in  the  midst  of 
calumny  and  insult,  such  as  men  must  once  en- 
dure to  understand.  After  a  brief,  fitful  sleep, 
we  had  been  roused  that  morning  long  before 
the  dawn. 

Hoping  the  night  before  to  get  a  chance  in 
the  early  morning,  we  had  asked  Leroy  Cham- 
berlain and  Fred  Aubert  to  watch  the  night 
through  at  the  balloon  house.  At  four  o'clock 
they  knocked  at  my  door,  reported  no  wind,  a 
dense  fog,  a  good  outlook.  A  moment  later  En- 
gineer Vaniman  was  called ;  telephones  were  set 
ringing  all  over  Atlantic  City;  messengers  were 
sent  scurrying  after  the  other  members  of  our 
crew;  the  fire  and  police  departments,  which  had 
offered  to  help,  were  notified,  and  in  a  half  hour 
had  a  hundred  men  on  the  way  to  the  huge  struc- 
ture in  which  the  America  was  housed.  Long 
before  the  first  streaks  of  light  came  from  the 
East  we  were  all  there,  eager  to  be  off  upon  our 
voyage. 

First,  the  canvas  doors  of  the  balloon  house 
were  pulled  back  out  of  the  way.  Then  the  steel 
sea  serpent,  or  equilibrator,  weighing  nearly  two 
tons,  were  carried  on  the  backs  of  three-score 
men  and  thrown  into  the  sea,  a  few  hundred 
yards  distant.  Next  the  lifeboat,  considerably 
more  than  a  ton  with  its  cargo,  was  taken  out 
and  placed  upon  the  ground  in  front  of  the  bal- 


280  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

loon  house.  All  this  time  the  fog  was  still  thick; 
there  was  no  wind;  telegrams  and  telephones 
from  the  Weather  Bureau  at  Washington,  with 
which  for  days  we  had  been  in  almost  hourly 
communication,  brought  no  news  of  probable 
change.  General  conditions  over  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  were  reported  favorable;  local  conditions 
were  right ;  thanks  to  a  little  patience  and  watch- 
fulness our  chance  had  come  to  launch  the  air- 
ship without  danger  of  accident  in  taking  her 
out,  one  of  the  things  which  from  the  first  we  had 
most  feared,  for  well  did  we  know  from  experi- 
ence the  hazard  of  that  operation. 

Then  we  took  her  out.  A  hundred  men 
grasped  the  leading  lines  placed  for  their  use, 
hanging  down  from  the  sides  of  the  balloon. 
The  12%  tons  of  material  and  gas  composing  the 
ship  floated  in  the  air  upon  such  an  even  balance 
that  one  could  push  the  whole  mass  up  or  down 
with  one  hand.  A  few  hundred  weight  of  sand 
bags  were  thrown  off,  the  hundred  men  pulled 
enough  upon  their  lines  to  compensate  the  up- 
ward thrust  of  this  buoyancy,  and  as  the  crews 
of  men  walked  forward  at  the  word  of  command 
the  huge  ship  glided  gracefully  out  of  the 
house  in  which  she  had  been  assembled  and 
painstakingly  prepared  for  her  long  voyage. 
The  assembled  people  cheered  as  they  saw 
her  slide  out  into  the  fog.  They  were  amazed  at 


o 

w  '-' 


•       ±    ' 
- 


THE  START  281 

her  great  size,  her  graceful  proportions.  A 
small  boy  cried  out:  "My,  just  see  how  big  and 
long  she  is!" 

In  a  few  moments  the  lifeboat  had  been 
hooked  to  the  steel  car — the  shackles  and  fasten- 
ers were  all  ready.  One  by  one  we  of  the  crew 
bade  good-bye  to  families  and  friends;  no  tears 
were  shed  by  anyone,  though  all  of  us  felt  the 
seriousness  of  the  moment.  The  cat  was  placed 
on  board  amid  the  applause  of  the  on-lookers. 
Engineer  Vaniman  remained  on  the  ground  to 
superintend  the  attaching  of  the  cables  which 
hung  the  equilibrator  to  the  airship.  This  done, 
and  the  last  remaining  sand  bags  cut  away,  he 
clambered  to  his  place  in  the  engine  room,  and 
was  cheered  by  the  crowd  as  he  did  so. 

The  America  was  now  ready.  At  the  order 
of  "Let  go  all,"  the  hundred  men  holding  her 
slipped  their  lines  and  she  rose  in  the  air,  carry- 
ing the  lifeboat  with  her,  and  lifting  about  one- 
tenth  of  the  weight  of  the  equilibrator.  A  line 
was  given  to  a  motor-launch,  to  tow  us  out 
through  the  bay  over  the  bar  to  the  open  sea. 
In  a  moment  we  lost  sight  of  the  balloon  shed 
and  the  people  on  shore ;  but  we  could  hear  them 
cheering  somewhere  back  there  in  the  gloom. 

Moving  slowly  out  through  the  mists  towed 
by  the  launch,  my  first  thought  was  of  the  equili- 
brator down  below.  It  swam  easily  on  the  sur- 


282  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

face  of  the  water.  But  a  pity  'twas,  thought  we 
who  had  laboriously  and  carefully  made  the  plan 
of  all  this,  that  the  design  could  not  have  been 
better  carried  out  and  fully  one-half  of  the 
weight  of  the  serpent  be  suspended  in  the  air  at 
the  very  start.  At  this  moment  I  confess  I  had 
my  first  forebodings  of  trouble;  weights  had 
overrun;  the  lifeboat  was  double  the  stipulated 
weight;  apparently  almost  everything  else  had 
exceeded  calculations;  thus  the  ship  was  over- 
loaded in  a  desire  to  carry  with  us  enough  fuel 
to  insure  a  radius  of  action  equal  to  the  tremen- 
dous distance  which  lay  ahead. 

It  was  with  a  keen  feeling  of  disappointment 
I  looked  down  and  saw  only  one-tenth  instead 
of  one-half  of  the  equilibrator  lifted  from  the 
sea.  But  there  was  not  even  a  thought  of  turn- 
ing back,  nor — if  the  motors  started  up  right— 
of  converting  the  start  into  a  trial  trip.  This 
weakness  of  the  overload  was  nothing  new;  we 
had  struggled  against  it  in  vain  through  the 
weary  weeks;  it  was  fundamental  and  could  not 
be  remedied.  A  trial  trip,  and  return  for  altera- 
tion, could  avail  nothing;  already  we  were  a 
month  later  than  our  original  programme  had 
called  for,  and  with  the  season  so  far  advanced 
a  return  would  probably  mean  no  start  at  all  this 
year.  That,  of  course,  could  not  be  endured,  no 
matter  what  the  cost. 


THE  START  283 

If  good  reason  there  had  been  for  returning 
—anything  of  practical  value  to  be  gained — we 
should  have  come  back.  But  there  was  none, 
and  on  we  went.  Here  at  last  was  an  answer 
at  least  to  those  who  had  misunderstood  and 
had  mingled  malice  with  their  ignorance.  Just 
a  flash  of  all  this,  accompanied  by  a  momentary 
exultation  that  we  had  never  turned  to  the  right 
or  the  left  because  of  baseless  criticism,  and  also 
a  feeling,  "Now  that  is  all  over — forgive  and 
forget" — passed  rapidly  through  my  mind  as  we 
drifted  out  into  the  silence  of  the  mist,  as  vague 
and  uncertain  as  the  fate  that  lay  before  us. 

Just  then  attention  was  directed  to  that  mem- 
ber of  our  crew  destined  to  be  the  real  hero  of 
the  voyage — because  real  heroes  are  never  self- 
conscious — are  always  unconscious  of  suspicion 
and  slander,  of  danger,  of  over-generous  praise 
—and  therefore  are  never  two-legged.  The 
young  gray  cat,  taken  on  board  half  in  jest  as 
a  mascot,  was  howling  pitifully  amid  these 
strange  surroundings.  Mr.  Vaniman,  afraid  of 
having  his  short  sleeps  disturbed,  insisted  that 
"Kiddo"  be  left  behind.  Mr.  Simon,  sailor-like, 
vowed  it  was  bad  luck  to  let  a  cat  leave  a  ship, 
and  with  equal  energy  insisted  kitty  should  stay 
on  board.  The  momentous  question  was  referred 
to  me.  Without  any  fear  of  midnight  howls  on 
the  one  hand,  and  without  any  superstitions  on 


284  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  other,  it  all  seemed  rather  trivial,  and  I  told 
Mr.  Vaniman  to  do  as  he  liked  about  it. 

He  put  puss  in  a  bag,  and  tried  to  lower  him 
down  to  the  motor-launch;  but  he  was  too  late, 
the  launch  had  cast  loose  the  tow  line,  and 
Kiddo  was  pulled  up  again,  a  narrow  escape 
from  losing  all  his  fame.  Later  we  were  all 
right,  glad  chance  had  decided  in  favor  of  the 
retention  of  the  feline  member  of  our  crew. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

OUT   OVER   THE   ATLANTIC 

So  off  we  went  to  the  eastward,  the  seven 
of  us,  including  the  cat.  In  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  the  eight-cylinder  motor  was  started;  the 
propellers  cut  the  air;  the  America  vibrated,  re- 
sponded, moved  over  the  water  with  her  own 
power.  She  was  a  real  cruiser  of  the  air. 
Down  below  through  the  fog  we  could  see  the 
equilibrator  swimming  along,  for  all  the  world 
like  a  great  sea  serpent,  its  head  iri  the  air,  with 
a  tortuous  foamy  wake.  There  was  a  gentle 
breeze  from  the  northwest.  The  ship  was  mak- 
ing fair  headway. 

We  all  felt  the  exaltation  of  this  moment,  and 
said  little  but  smiled  at  one  another.  All  were 
happy,  save  Kiddo,  the  cat,  and  he  was  still 
sullen  with  the  strangeness  of  his  garret.  A 
strange  garret  indeed,  perched  upon  a  frame  of 
steel,  suspended  underneath  a  mass  of  silk  and 
cotton  and  rubber,  lifted  by  a  ton  of  hydrogen, 
a  whirring  engine  disturbing  the  silence  and 
moving  through  gray  space — pioneers  in  navi- 
gation of  the  atmospheric  ocean  which  covers  the 

285 


286  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

world's  high  sea.  It  was  no  wonder  that  for  an 
hour  or  two  Kiddo's  eyes  stared  a  trifle  wildly. 

But  we  who  were  conscious  of  the  fact  that  no 
man  before  us  had  attempted  what  we  were  do- 
ing— conscious  that  no  matter  what  and  whom 
we  had  left  behind,  or  what  we  were  going  to,  we 
were  the  first  of  humankind  to  sail  these  two 
oceans  in  one  with  a  great  engineered  and  cun- 
ning machine,  designed  to  conquer  them  both 
together — we  should  have  been  less  than  human 
if  we  had  not  felt  a  strange  joy,  an  almost  un- 
canny fascination.  Even  men  of  the  calm,  cold, 
practical  order  of  minds,  who  calculate  stresses 
and  pressures  and  densities,  who  figure  and  plan 
and  construct  and  experiment  and  work  loga- 
rithms on  the  one  hand  and  carburettors  on  the 
other,  may  have  a  little  imagination  and  may  be 
permitted  an  occasional  moment  of  enthusiasm. 
All  about  me  were  radiant  faces — all  save  Kid- 
do's,  it  still  a  bit  sour  with  strangeness ;  cats  have 
no  imagination,  no  ken  of  chemistry  and  human 
nature  and  the  history  of  progress;  no  vanity 
in  pioneering. 

After  we  had  been  out  two  and  a  half  hours, 
the  motor  was  stopped  to  try  the  wireless.  Jack 
Irwin  was  scrouched  down  in  his  corner  by  his 
instruments  in  the  lifeboat ;  the  wireless  receivers 
at  his  ears;  over  them  thick  woollen  pads  to 
drown  out  the  whirr  of  the  motor  and  propellers. 


OUT  OVER  THE  ATLANTIC     287 

Now  there  is  a  broad,  bright  grin  underneath  the 
pads.  We  all  lean  forward  expectantly.  He 
must  be  hearing  something  from  shore.  He 
waves  off  interruptions,  then  seizes  paper  and 
pencil  and  jots  down  this  message  from  Atlantic 
City: 

"Wellman,  Airship  America: 

"We  are  getting  your  signals.     What  news?" 

I  dictated  to  Irwin  the  reply: 

"Headed  northeast.  All  well  on  board.  Ma- 
chinery working  well.  Good-bye, 

"WELLMAN." 

And  these  were  the  first  wireless  messages  ex- 
changed between  a  station  on  shore  and  an 
airship  navigating  the  sea.  One  world's  record 
had  at  any  rate  been  established;  and  again  we 
all  felt  the  gladness  of  pioneering  along  the  path 
of  progress. 

More  messages  followed.  Overjoyed  with 
this  strange  experience  of  carrying  on  conversa- 
tion with  friends  and  families  twenty  miles  away 
from  our  aerial  perch,  I  wirelessed  the  London 
Daily  Telegraph,  the  New  York  Times  and  the 
Chicago  Record-Herald  that  we  were  on  our 
way  and  making  good  progress.  Mindful  of 


288  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

our  friends  at  Atlantic  City,  I  sent  the  follow- 
ing to  the  President  of  the  club  which  had  built 
the  Americas  shelter  house — and  lost  money  in 
the  operation: 

" Joseph  W.  Solus: 

"Atlantic  City  did  nobly.  We  are  doing  our 
best  to  repay  your  loyal  support." 

And  in  his  generous  enthusiasm,  Mr.  Salus 
replied : 

"Wellman,  Airship  America: 

"Great  work.  One  of  the  achievements  of  the 
century.  God  speed  to  you  and  Vaniman. 

"J.  W.  SALUS." 

There  was  Vaniman,  unemotional,  unimagi- 
native, a  good  mechanic,  and  seeming  to  live  in 
his  machines,  a  part  of  them,  and  as  matter  of 
fact  as  they.  Yet  Vaniman  confessed  after- 
wards that  when  he  realized  we  were  well  out 
to  sea  and  were  communicating  to  the  shore  back 
and  forth  with  Signor  Marconi's  wizard  will-o'- 
the-wisp  whisperings,  through  the  misty  miles, 
tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  That  was  indeed  a  tri- 
umph of  mind  over  matter — not  only  the  far 
whispers,  but  the  tears  in  the  eyes  of  a  stoic  like 
our  engineer. 


MET.VIX  VAXIMAX  AT  SPITSBERGEN. 


OUT  OVER  THE  ATLANTIC     289 

Now  Mr.  Percy  Bullen,  American  represent- 
ative of  the  London  Daily  Telegraph,  asked  me 
from  Atlantic  City  through  the  Hertzian  waves : 

"From  your  experience  up  to  now,  do  you  feel 
confident  of  being  able  to  make  Europe?" 

My  reply  was:  "Just  started;  too  early  to 
judge  the  outcome." 

Frankly,  at  that  moment  we  had  no  great  de- 
gree of  confidence,  only  a  hope  large  enough  to 
cling  to  and  work  for.  Realizing  how  weights 
were  overrunning,  how  the  symmetry  and  bal- 
ance of  the  original  plan  was  being  overthrown 
by  the  exigencies  of  construction  and  equipment 
and  the  impracticability  of  getting  contracts 
filled  to  the  letter — such  as  the  life-boat  weigh- 
ing double  the  stipulation — realizing,  too, 
that  the  agreed-upon  quantity  of  fuel  could 
not  be  carried  and  that  the  equilibrator  was  far 
too  much  in  the  sea  and  too  much  of  a  drag  upon 
the  ship,  for  a  fortnight  or  more  my  hope  had 
sensibly  diminished.  And  now,  with  almost 
stunning  swiftness,  came  trouble  with  the 
motors ;  and  hence  the  caution  with  which  my 
reply  to  Mr.  Bullen  was  phrased. 

Motor  troubles  came  soon  enough,  heaven 
knows.  Despite  all  our  experience  with  these 
engines,  all  our  care  and  expense  in  fitting  them 
up  and  trying  them  out,  with  the  best  experts 


290  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

we  could  bring  over  from  Paris,  and  more  than 
two  months  in  which  to  get  them  in  perfect 
order,  the  eight-cylinder  motor  never  gave  more 
than  one-half  its  normal  power.  Just  why,  I 
do  not  know  even  now.  It  worked  weakly,  by 
fits  and  starts.  The  four-cylinder  Lorraine- 
Dietrich  did  a  little  better,  but  during  the  first 
ten  hours  was  not  up  to  its  mark.  My  log 
shows  many  entries  like  these:  "L.D.  worked 
12  minutes  and  stopped  40  minutes.  E.N.V. 
ran  9  minutes  and  it  was  two  hours  before  it 
started  again."  Engineer  Vaniman  and  his  two 
assistants  Loud  and  Aubert,  worked  like  Tro- 
jans. They  did  the  best  they  could,  but  that 
unfortunately  was  not  good  enough;  motors  are 
proverbially  coy  and  uncertain. 

This  first  day  out,  with  a  quiet  sea  and  a  gentle 
wind  from  the  right  direction,  when  we  should 
have  been  making  excellent  progress  on  our 
course,  we  had  a  motor  running  about  four 
hours  altogether,  and  that  at  a  reduced  output 
of  power.  And  in  the  afternoon  the  eight 
cylinder  broke  down  entirely,  Vaniman  remark- 
ing that  "It  was  no  good  and  could  be  thrown 
overboard  as  ballast."  So  this  day  was  virtually 
wasted.  By  nightfall,  nearly  ten  hours  out, 
we  were  sighted  and  reported  by  the  steamer 
Coamo,  about  eighty  miles  from  Atlantic 
City,  when  we  should  have  been  two  hundred. 


OUT  OVER  THE  ATLANTIC     291 

It  was  a  discouraging  start,  and  that's  the  truth, 
Blame  does  not  fall  upon  any  man,  but 
it  does  fall  upon  the  pesky  machines,  which 
failed  us  so  early,  despite  the  fact  that  the 
plan  of  campaign,  from  the  first,  all  factors 
taken  into  consideration — the  time,  distance, 
probable  winds,  speed  of  ship,  fuel  supply, 
everything — I  had  expressed  in  these  words  of 
elementary  law:  "We  have  two  good,  well- 
tried  motors ;  if  we  can  keep  one  or  other  of  them 
going  all  the  time,  we  can  cross  the  Atlantic." 

It  was  particularly  maddening,  as  night  came 
on  and  the  gas  in  the  balloon  contracted,  and 
the  ship  dropped  more  and  more  of  the  equili- 
brator  into  the  water  and  came  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  surface  of  the  sea,  to  find  it  nec- 
essary to  throw  overboard,  for  lightening  ship, 
the  very  gasoline  which  should  have  been  burned 
during  the  day  in  the  engines  and  converted  into 
so  many  more  miles  covered.  These  were 
among  the  unpleasant  discoveries  of  this  first 
day  and  evening  of  the  voyage;  but  still  there 
was  no  thought  of  turning  back — we  would 
fight  it  out.  The  plan  had  been  to  start  with 
four  and  one-half  tons  of  fuel,  the  equilibrator 
half  above  the  water,  to  burn  half  a  ton  of 
gasoline  per  day,  thus  gaining  500  or  600  pounds 
of  buoyancy  over  the  loss  due  to  gas  leakage, 
gradually  lifting  the  equilibrator  until,  under 


292  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

normal  conditions,  only  a  small  bit  of  the  tail 
would  remain  in  contact  with  the  waves. 

It  is  easy  to  design,  difficult  to  execute ;  and  we 
were  so  unfortunate  in  our  execution  that  we 
were  compelled  to  start  with  less  than  6,000 
pounds  of  gasoline,  and  almost  all  of  the  equili- 
brator  upon  the  sea;  on  account  of  the  poor 
working  of  the  motors  we  were  this  first  night 
out  throwing  over  gasoline  which  should  have 
been  burned;  and  the  serpent  underneath  us,  in- 
stead of  being  gradually  lifted,  was  getting  rel- 
atively heavier  and  heavier,  retarding  the  speed 
of  the  ship,  and  interfering  to  some  extent  with 
the  steering. 

Still,  we  kept  on.  With  a  lucky  run  of  wind, 
one  good  engine  and  a  reduced  fuel  supply  it 
was  still  possible  to  cross  the  ocean.  There 
was  no  thought  of  surrender.  As  yet  the 
America  as  a  power-ship  had  not  given  a  good 
account  of  herself.  She  had  been  drifting  and 
dawdling  with  only  25  per  cent,  of  her  normal 
engine  power  in  use.  But  this  Saturday  night 
we  came  upon  conditions  which  challenged  the 
engineers  and  their  remaining  effective  motor  to 
battle.  They  accepted  the  challenge  and  made 
a  struggle  which  must  live  long  in  the  annals 
of  aerial  navigation. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

PERILS   OF   FIRE,    SHIPWRECK   AND    COLLISION 

This  was  a  night  of  many  perils.  Early  in 
the  evening  a  fresh  breeze  sprang  up  from  the 
south-southwest.  It  was  blowing  us  towards  the 
New  England  Coast.  Aware  of  our  danger, 
Simon  and  I  called  for  more  energetic  motor 
service,  and  the  engineers  responded  nobly.  At 
7:00  o'clock  Saturday  night,  they  set  the  L.D. 
running  at  about  three-quarters  normal  speed 
and  kept  it  going  hour  after  hour.  Simon  threw 
the  helm  as  far  as  it  would  go,  tied  it  there,  and 
thus  the  battle  continued  throughout  the  night, 
the  ship  fighting  for  easting  to  keep  off  the  land. 

And  such  a  night  as  it  was !  Soon  the  exhaust 
pipe  was  heated  red  hot  and  began  to  belch 
sparks — not  an  occasional  flash  of  fire,  but  thick 
showers  flying  aft  along  the  varnished  cotton  en- 
closure of  the  steel  car,  up  against  the  under 
part  of  the  balloon  itself,  against  the  canvas 
rudder,  and  the  ship's  colors  floating  above  the 
helm.  Nor  were  these  mere  evanescent  flashes 
of  filmy  flame,  but  great  constellations  of  living 
coals,  many  of  them  glowing  for  a  few  seconds 
after  they  had  fallen  into  the  sea.  It  seemed  to 

293 


294  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

me  only  a  question  of  time  when  one  of  these 
fiery,  incandescent  masses  would  lodge  in  some 
nook  or  cranny,  set  fire  to  the  canvas,  and  bring 
our  little  wrorld  to  an  end. 

For  some  minutes,  half  scared,  half  fascinated, 
I  watched  these  aerial  fireworks,  trying  to  figure 
out  the  percentage  of  chances  in  one  hundred  we 
had  to  escape  being  blown  to  kingdom  come  by 
that  combination  of  345,000  cubic  feet  of  hy- 
drogen, tons  of  volatile  gasoline,  half  an  acre  of 
cotton,  and  the  whole  deluged  with  almost  con- 
stant eruptions  of  flying  fireballs.  I  always  was 
somewhat  mathematical.  But  before  I  could  de- 
termine whether  we  had  ten  chances  or  only  five 
in  the  hundred  of  escaping  one  grand  conclusive 
explosion,  my  nerves  gave  way. 

"Vaniman,"  I  cried,  "y°u  must  stop  that  motor 
at  once." 

He  stopped  it  and  called  down  from  the 
engine  room  to  me  in  the  lifeboat,  "What's  the 
matter?" 

"Nothing  but  hell  fire,"  I  replied,  meaning  to 
be  descriptive,  not  profane.  "We  can't  stand 
this;  it's  only  a  question  of  time  when  we  blow 
up." 

"It's  been  doing  that  all  day,"  said  Vaniman; 
"it  looks  lots  worse  than  it  is." 

"Well,  it  looks  bad  enough;  is  there  nothing 
you  can  do  to  stop  it?" 


UNFORESEEN  PERILS  295 

"Nothing." 

"Nothing  whatever?" 

"Nothing  except  to  stop  running  the  motor 
altogether." 

"Then  run  the  motor,  but  for  heaven's  sake 
try  to  stop  those  fireworks." 

There  we  sat  hour  after  hour,  watching  this 
volcanic  eruption  against  the  reservoirs  of  gas 
and  gasoline,  fearing  every  minute  would  bring 
the  end.  Louis  Loud,  as  brave  a  man  as  ever 
trod  the  deck  of  an  aerial  cruiser,  came  down 
from  the  engine  room  and  sat  by  me  for  a  time. 
He  looked  at  the  red  hot  exhaust  pipe  and  the 
torrents  of  fire  streaming  out  behind  and  uttered 
one  short  and  significant  word.  A  little  later 
he  added: 

"I  don't  mind  what  I  can't  see,  but 
when  I  look  at  those  globs  of  fire,  I  don't  feel 
good." 

Louis  sat  for  a  time,  fascinated,  as  we 
hear  men  sometimes  are  by  the  fire-glint  in  the 
eyes  of  poisonous  reptiles,  and  then  went  back 
to  the  engine  room  overhead  without  saying  an- 
other word.  The  truth  is,  words  were  useless. 

I  fell  into  the  habit  of  singling  out  one  particu- 
larly large,  glowing  mass  after  another,  follow- 
ing its  course  with  my  eyes  and  muttering, 
"That's  the  one  that's  going  to  do  the  business." 
Then  I  took  up  again  my  favorite  mathematical 


296  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

calculation  of  chances,  and  proved  the  truth  of 
the  old  saying  that  you  can  do  anything  with 
figures,  especially  if  you  are  an  optimist — and  I 
guess  none  but  an  optimist  would  try  to  cross 
the  Atlantic  in  an  airship — for  this  time,  remem- 
bering that  the  balloon  and  canvas  were  all  damp 
with  the  fog,  I  reduced  the  odds  on  eternity  to 
50  out  of  100. 

One  can  get  accustomed  to  almost  anything. 
Comforted  by  my  revised  mathematics,  I  dozed 
off  to  sleep.  And  a  few  minutes  later  was  awak- 
ened by  a  dream  which  had  set  me  laughing  im- 
moderately. The  dream  was  of  Hinky  Dink 
Stover — by  the  way,  Owen  Johnson's  "The 
Varmint"  was  the  only  book  except  works  of 
navigation  we  carried  on  the  airship.  Hinky 
Dink  out  in  centre  field,  ninth  inning,  opponents 
needing  three  to  win,  two  on  bases,  a  beautiful  fly 
coming  right  toward  him,  Dink  holding  up  his 
paws,  admiring  the  fine,  graceful  trajectory  of 
the  sphere,  watching  it  fall  gently  into  his  out- 
stretched hands — and  then,  forgetting  to  grip  it, 
seeing  it  trickle  over  to  the  ground  for  a  home 
run.  You  remember  how  Dink's  mates  chased 
him  to  his  room  and  tried  to  get  through  the  tran- 
som to  eat  him  alive.  That's  where  dream 
laughter  awakened  me ;  and  I  began  watching  the 
sparks  again,  though  with  only  a  languid  sort 
of  interest  in  them. 


UNFORESEEN  PERILS          297 

Adventures  in  the  air?  Well,  we  had  our 
share.  It  was  our  lot  to  break  another  record. 
Not  only  the  first  to  navigate  the  atmospheric 
and  aqueous  oceans,  the  first  to  send  wireless 
messages  from  airship  to  shore,  now  we  were  the 
first  to  be  in  imminent  danger  of  collision  be- 
tween a  ship  of  the  air  and  a  ship  of  the  sea. 
About  eight  o'clock  that  Saturday  night  a  cry 
of  alarm  was  raised  by  one  of  our  crew;  dead 
ahead,  ghost-like  in  the  fog,  was  a  four-masted 
schooner.  We  were  almost  upon  her.  I  called 
to  Vaniman  to  stop  the  motor,  that  the  America 
might  swing  round  with  the  wind  and  cut  in  be- 
hind the  vessel.  Instead,  he  ran  forward  to 
warn  Simon  at  the  wheel,  the  window  »at  the 
navigating  deck  not  affording  a  very  clear  look- 
out. But  the  alert  Simon  had  already  seen  the 
schooner.  In  a  moment  he  threw  his  helm  hard 
to  starboard;  the  America  responded  quickly, 
swung  round  to  the  northward,  and  passed  astern 
the  stranger.  We  all  breathed  more  easily  as 
her  masts  slipped  by. 

It  was  a  close  call.  From  the  lifeboat 
we  looked  almost  straight  down  upon  the 
schooner's  deck,  where  we  could  see  men  running 
to  and  fro,  but  the  noise  of  our  exhaust  drowned 
their  voices.  If  we  were  astonished,  what  must 
have  been  the  feelings  of  the  skipper  and  his 
crew  when  they  saw  a  great  dark,  whirring, 


298  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

chugging  tiling  rise  like  a  monster  upon  them  out 
of  the  murky  air? 

We  would  not  be  Americans  if  we  failed  to 
have  our  laugh  over  the  funny  side  of  the  affair, 
serious  as  it  looked  for  a  few  moments.  Van- 
iman  came  down  to  the  lifeboat,  wondering  what 
the  skipper  and  his  helmsman  were  thinking  and 
saying.  "I'll  wager  the  men  on  deck  will  not 
dare  tell  their  shipmates  down  below  what  they 
saw  on  their  watch.  And  if  they  do,  they  will 
be  unmercifully  ridiculed  for  spinning  such 
tipsy  yarns  about  seeing  a  regular  Flying 
Dutchman."  And  we  all  laughed  with  Van- 
iman.  But  the  skipper  of  the  schooner  hap- 
pened to  be  on  deck,  saw  the  apparition  in  the 
air  with  his  own  eyes,  and  was  not  afraid  to  tell 
about  it  when  he  made  port.  The  schooner  was 
the  Bullard,  bound  for  Norfork. 

"We  were  running  in  a  thick  mist,"  said  Cap- 
tain Sawyer,  "and  were  tooting  our  fog  horn. 
Suddenly  a  sound  like  the  steady  grind  of  an 
engine  reached  our  ears,  and  we  thought  some 
steamer  was  close  upon  us.  Just  over  our  heads 
we  saw  a  light,  but  we  thought  it  was  only  the 
mast  of  the  steamer.  We  never  thought  the  air- 
ship was  near  us.  We  left  Boston  without  hear- 
ing that  Wellman  had  sailed,  and  the  only 
thing  we  were  thinking  of  was  a  steamer.  I  ran 
aft  and  tooted  our  fog  horn,  and  the  members 


UNFORESEEN  PERILS          299 

of  my  crew  ran  about  shouting  and  yelling  to 
what  they  believed  was  a  steamer,  hoping  that 
its  lookout  might  see  us  in  time  to  avoid  a  col- 
lision. 

"There  was  great  confusion  aboard  the  Bullard. 
We  could  plainly  hear  the  steady  grind  of  the  ma- 
chinery and  the  whirring  of  the  motor,  but  we 
could  see  nothing  but  the  light  in  the  air.  It  was 
dark,  and  there  was  a  thick  fog.  The  light  came 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  members  of  my  crew 
said  that  they  could  hear  voices.  Then  out  of 
the  darkness  and  mist  shot  a  big  aerial  phantom, 
as  we  imagined,  going  east,  and  headed  directly 
for  the  Bullard.  The  thing  was  such  a  big  sur- 
prise for  all  hands  that  we  were  knocked  off  our 
pins. 

"The  airship,  when  almost  on  us,  rose  up 
higher,  and  shot  out  to  sea.  She  was  probably 
going  fifteen  miles  an  hour.  The  America  was 
less  than  a  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  and  the 
topmasts  of  the  Bullard  are  110  feet.  Had  the 
airship  hit  us,  she  would  undoubtedly  have  been 
destroyed  and  probably  those  in  her  would  have 
been  killed.  The  miss  was  so  close  that  several 
members  of  the  Bullard 's  crew  declare  they  heard 
the  airship  scraping  the  topmasts  as  she  veered 
off. 

"We  could  hear  the  voices  on  the  airship, 
but  were  unable  to  make  out  what  was  said. 


300  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Two  of  my  crew  said  that  they  heard  the  words, 
"Clear  the  line!"  which  evidently  had  reference 
to  the  thing  trailing  from  the  ship-.  A  mutter- 
ing of  voices  on  the  ship  in  the  air  indicated  very 
plainly  that  there  was  some  excitement  above 
us.  I  think  the  surprise  on  the  America  wras  as 
great  as  our  own.  But  the  airship  had  a  per- 
fect steering  arrangement.  She  came  at  us 
almost  like  the  wind,  and  when  almost  on  us  she 
turned  suddenly,  like  a  motor  car  shooting 
around  a  corner  or  a  short  curve,  and  passed 
harmlessly  out  to  sea." 

The  light  the  skipper  saw  upon  the  America 
was  our  red  hot  exhaust  pipe! 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

A    DAY    OF    STORM    AND    DANGER 

All  that  Saturday  night  we  kept  up  the  strug- 
gle to  weather  the  southern  shores  of  New  Eng- 
land and  get  well  out  to  sea.  The  four-cylinder 
motor  continued  to  run,  and  to  spit  fire,  but  as 
long  as  we  could  make  easting  we  were  content. 
Although  the  wind  held  fresh,  the  propellers 
gave  us  a  course  of  northeast  in  the  stronger 
puffs  and  nearly  east  when  the  wind  eased  off. 
No  one  slept  that  night,  though  most  of  us  were 
well-nigh  exhausted.  It  was  a  night  of  peril, 
of  strain,  of  anxiety  which  cannot  be  described. 

All  through  the  night  I  stood  watch  by  the 
compass  or  steering  wheel,  watching  the  wake 
of  the  equilibrator  and  noting  its  angle  by  the 
magnetic  needle.  Throughout  our  voyage  the 
actual  course  of  the  ship  was  determined  in  this 
manner,  and  we  had  no  need  to  use  the  leeway 
wire  and  indicator.  We  had  not  been  able  to 
get  a  sight  of  the  sun  or  a  star  since  leaving 
Atlantic  City,  and  knew  only  roughly  where  we 
were.  But  Simon  and  I  calculated  that  if  the 

301 


302  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

motor  stopped  any  considerable  time  the  wind 
would  drive  us  upon  the  coast. 

And  that  meant  shipwreck.  The  America, 
remember,  was  not  designed  to  travel  over  land, 
but  over  sea.  If  she  struck  the  coast  she  would 
be  wrecked  precisely  as  if  she  were  a  steamship; 
the  equilibrator  would  anchor  us  to  the  land 
and  that  would  be  the  end  of  the  voyage.  We 
didn't  want  the  voyage  to  end,  even  if  that 
should  mean  safety  for  ourselves.  We  wanted 
to  go  on  and  fight  it  out  as  long  as  there  was 
any  chance — and  we  still  believed  we  had  a 
chance.  I  had  a  particular  horror  of  landing 
on  Long  Island.  To  leave  Atlantic  City  for 
Europe  and  pull  up  some  where  near  Montauk 
or  Newport  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  Even 
a  holocaust  seemed  preferable  to  a  fiasco.  And 
we  showered  praise  upon  the  engineers  and  the 
motor  for  the  way  they  fought  the  good  fight 
for  seaway.  Almost  every  moment  we  feared 
the  engine  would  stop  or  something  would  break 
but  at  5:00  o'clock  Sunday  morning  it  was  still 
running. 

At  dawn  the  practiced  eyes  of  sailor  Simon 
and  Jack  Irwin,  who  have  sailed  a  lot  along 
the  transatlantic  steamer  lanes,  detected  the 
ripples  of  shoal  water,  or  tide-rips,  underneath 
us.  They  concluded  we  were  between  ISTan- 
tucket  Lightship  and  Nantucket  Island,  and 


STORM  AND  DANGER  303 

this  agreed  with  our  rough  log.  An  hour  later 
we  reckoned  we  were  free  of  land.  We  had  es- 
caped the  humiliation  of  pulling  up  short  on  the 
coast  of  New  England.  The  broad  Atlantic 
was  opening  before  us. 

A  little  later  the  wind  freshened,  and  seemed 
to  be  carrying  us  more  to  the  north.  Alarmed, 
we  called  Vaniman — he  had  been  asleep  fifteen 
minutes — and  started  the  motor  again  to  make 
sure  of  completing  our  victory.  At  eight  o'clock 
we  felt  sure  of  having  passed  well  east  of  Nan- 
tucket,  and  it  was  high  time  Engineers  Vani- 
man, Loud  and  Aubert  should  have  a  brief  rest 
from  their  arduous  labors  and  the  red-hot  ex- 
haust pipe  should  get  a  chance  to  cool.  The 
big,  heavy  Lorraine-Dietrich  had  run  alto- 
gether about  twelve  hours  with  only  a  few  min- 
utes' stoppage,  had  kept  the  America  from  40 
to  60  degrees  into  the  wind,  and  had  saved  the 
situation. 

The  America  had  thus  given  gallant  proof  of 
what  she  could  do  as  a  cruiser.  This  Sunday 
we  were  now  entering  upon  she  was  to  be  tested 
in  another  and  most  severe  way.  Early  in  the 
morning  heavy  gusts  from  the  southwest  struck 
the  ship,  sending  her  forward  at  tremendous 
speed,  causing  the  submerged  equilibrator  to  pull 
harder  and  harder  and  bearing  the  America  al- 
most down  to  the  sea.  Once  or  twice  the  life- 


304  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

boat  nearly  touched  the  crest  of  the  waves;  if 
it  had  struck  it  would  have  been  torn  loose  from 
its  shackles,  those  of  us  in  her  would  have  been 
swamped  or  set  adrift,  while  the  members  of 
the  crew  in  the  car  overhead  would  have  had 
no  craft  left  in  which  to  attempt  an  escape 
should  opportunity  offeri, 

Several  times  we  thought  the  end  had  come. 
So  great  was  the  danger  that  we  frequently 
found  it  necessary  to  lighten  the  ship.  More 
gasoline,  a  heavy  cable  and  various  spare  arti- 
cles were  thrown  overboard  one  after  another. 
The  most  of  this  day  was  spent  in  like  manner, 
a  stiff  breeze  from  the  west-southwest  push- 
ing the  America  rapidly  before  it,  broadside  to 
the  wind,  after  the  motor  was  stopped  for  good. 

Thus  we  drifted  an  estimated  140  miles  be- 
yond Nantucket,  when  the  wind  shifted  to  the 
west-northwest,  and  now  we  drifted  toward  the 
transatlantic  steamer  lanes,  and  wondered  if  we 
should  meet  a  ship.  So  great  was  the  hazard 
that  the  lifeboat  would  be  torn  loose  in  the 
heavier  gusts  we  took  care  to  put  the  cat  up  in 
the  car,  where  it  would  be  safer.  But  it  was 
not  a  very  happy  cat.  It  had  little  appetite, 
but  was  finally  induced  to  eat,  and  whenever  we 
of  the  crew  could  find  time  to  snatch  a  few 
minutes'  sleep  puss  had  a  way  of  nestling  close 
to  the  face  of  one  of  us  under  the  blanket,  there 


ASSEMBLING  THE  PARTS  OF  THE  GAS  APPARATUS,  PARIS  —  1910. 


STORM  AND  DANGER  305 

sleeping  soundly.  Anticipating  a  frightful 
night,  and  increased  danger  of  being  borne  down 
into  the  sea  as  the  gas  contracted  with  cold  and 
the  balloon  lost  a  part  of  its  buoyant  force,  we 
began  breaking  up  the  E.  N.  V.  motor  prepara- 
tory to  throwing  it  overboard  piecemeal. 

All  through  this  day  we  wondered  if  the  steel 
car  could  withstand  the  strains  put  upon  it  by 
the  equilibrator  cables  as  the  steel  serpent 
jumped  from  wave  to  wave,  fifty  to  eighty  feet 
each  leap.  Strange  to  say,  there  was  no  sharp 
jerking,  there  were  no  sharp  shocks.  But  the 
leaping  of  the  equilibrator  from  wave  to  wave, 
first  easing  up  the  pull  on  its  cables  then  draw- 
ing them  suddenly  taut,  set  up  in  the  airship  a 
swaying  or  rocking  motion  which  was  not  at  all 
pleasant  to  experience  because  it  suggested  the 
dire  possibility  that  the  strength  of  the  car 
would  not  prove  sufficient  to  endure  the  strains. 
The  cables  which  held  the  floating,  bounding 
and  leaping  serpent  were  attached  to  the  for- 
ward and  aft  part  of  the  steel  car  of  the  air- 
ship. We  knew  that  if  one  steel-stay  or  fas- 
tener were  to  give  way  the  structure  would  be 
weakened  at  that  point,  something  else  would 
yield  as  the  strains  continued  and  were  repeated, 
and  that  once  the  work  of  destruction  was  begun 
it  would  not  be  long  before  we  were  down  in 
the  boiling  sea.  And  well  did  we  realize  that  if 


306  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  car  were  to  break  up  in  this  storm  our  lives 
would  not  be  worth  a  farthing.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  launch  the  lifeboat  in  a  heavy  sea 
like  that  which  was  running  underneath  us;  it 
would  be  smashed  in  a  twinkling. 

Despite  the  fact  that  matters  now  looked 
pretty  gloomy,  the  crew  kept  up  their  cheerful 
spirits.  No  one  permitted  his  face  to  show  the 
anxiety  he  felt.  If  there  was  a  man  aboard  who 
wished  down  in  his  heart  we  had  permitted  the 
wind  to  drift  us  upon  the  New  England  coast, 
where  there  would  have  been  at  least  a  chance  for 
safety,  he  did  not  indicate  his  thoughts  by  word 
or  look. 

Late  this  Sunday  afternoon  the  wind  died 
down  a  little,  the  sea  was  not  so  rough.  It  ap- 
peared there  was  a  chance  to  launch  the  lifeboat 
without  much  danger  of  its  instant  destruction,  a 
chance  for  the  crew  to  leave  the  airship  and  get 
away  in  safety.  We  were  now  near  the  trans- 
atlantic steamer  lanes,  and  if  we  could  get  into 
the  lifeboat  the  chances  were  we  should  not 
have  long  to  wait  before  being  picked  up  by 
some  ship.  None  of  us  knew  what  the  night  was 
to  bring  forth.  A  renewal  of  the  high  wind  and 
heavy  seas  might  at  any  moment  bring  on  the 
end. 

Mr.  Vaniman  proposed  to  me  that  we  should 
launch  the  lifeboat  and  make  an  effort  to  get 


STORM  AND  DANGER  307 

away  while  there  still  seemed  to  be  a  chance.  I 
could  not  agree  with  him.  I  was  not  ready  to 
give  up  the  fight  so  quickly.  At  that  moment  I 
did  not  have  much  hope  of  being  able  to  cross 
the  Atlantic,  it  is  true,  because  we  had  found 
it  necessary  to  throw  over  so  much  fuel  that 
should  have  been  converted  into  miles  to  the 
eastward.  But  if  the  wind  should  happen  to 
change  to  the  west  again  we  might  still  make 
a  run  for  the  other  side.  At  any  rate  there 
was  no  need  to  give  up  the  voyage  until  circum- 
stances absolutely  compelled  us  to  do  so.  Vani- 
man  and  I  discussed  the  matter  for  some  time. 
He  still  insisted  upon  leaving  the  ship;  I  as 
strongly  opposed  it.  The  other  members  of  the 
crew  said  nothing,  though  they  overheard  our 
conversation. 

Under  the  circumstances  which  existed,  the 
danger  which  confronted  us,  the  possibility  of 
getting  away  in  safety  now,  I  did  not  feel  that 
I  had  the  right  as  commander  of  the  ship  to 
order  men  still  further  to  imperil  their  lives. 
If  there  had  been  a  real  and  promising  chance 
to  make  a  success  of  the  main  object  of  the 
voyage,  it  would  have  been  different.  But  if 
any  such  chance  remained  it  could  at  best  be 
said  to  be  only  a  desperate  one.  So  I  deter- 
mined to  give  the  other  men  an  opportunity  to 
vote  upon  the  question.  Their  lives  were  at 


308  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

stake ;  each  should  speak  for  himself.  One  after 
another  I  called  upon  them  to  say  what  they 
thought  we  should  do. 

"Let's  stick  by  the  ship,"  said  Louis  Loud. 

"I  am  with  you  for  fighting  it  out,"  from  Mur- 
ray Simon. 

"And  so  am  I,"  echoed  Jack  Irwin. 

"And  I,  too,"  shouted  young  Fred  Aubert 
from  the  engine  room  overhead. 

Thus  the  decision  was  reached.  Vaniman 
yielded  gracefully,  and  as  usual  continued  in- 
defatigable in  his  efforts  to  secure  the  safety  of 
the  ship. 

Up  to  this  time  we  had  not  only  gone  without 
sleep,  except  a  few  snatches  now  and  then,  but 
we  had  had  no  warm  food.  One  or  two  of  us 
had  had  a  bit  of  breakfast  before  taking  the  air- 
ship out  of  the  hangar  (or  balloon  house)  at 
Atlantic  City  Saturday  morning.  It  was  now 
Sunday  evening,  and  we  had  subsisted  up  to  this 
time  on  cold  meats  and  ship  biscuit  and  an  occa- 
sional cup  of  coffee.  Now,  at  my  suggestion, 
Fred  Aubert  started  up  the  gasoline  stove  down 
in  the  lifeboat,  and  not  only  boiled  coffee  but 
cooked  the  most  delicious  bacon  and  fried  eggs 
the  lips  of  weary  and  hungry  men  have  ever 
tasted  afloat  or  ashore  or  in  the  air. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

WHISPERINGS    IN    THE   AIR 

Throughout  much  of  this  trying  Sunday,  and 
the  still  more  trying  night  which  followed,  things 
wonderful  were  happening,  things  comforting, 
things  agonizing.  The  air  was  filled  with  wire- 
less whispers.  Almost  constantly  Irwin  could 
hear  "W,"  "W,"— our  signal  letter— repeated 
over  and  over,  from  shore  stations  and  ships  at 
sea.  At  last  we  began  to  get  an  inkling  of  the 
generous,  sympathetic  interest  the  world  was 
showing  in  our  adventure  and  fate — though  I 
must  admit  we  did  not  realize  it  to  the  full  till 
after  we  had  reached  New  York.  Irwin  heard 
Cape  Cod,  Siasconset,  Sagonapack,  the  Brook- 
lyn Navy  Yard,  a  number  of  ships  flashing  back 
and  forth  the  eager,  kind  query:  "Any  news  of 
the  America?"  And  it  was  hard  indeed  to  lis- 
ten to  all  this  magic  questioning,  and  to  the  re- 
plies, repeated  over  and  over:  "No  news!" — to 
know  how  anxious  many  hearts  were  for  our 
welfare,  and  not  to  be  able  to  tell  them  we  were 
alive — unable  to  break  our  silence  because  our 
apparatus  could  not  transmit  through  the  dis- 

309 


310  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

tance  which  separated  us  from  other  ships  or 
land  stations.  Once,  indeed,  we  felt  awed  in 
the  presence  of  the  strange  circumstances,  the 
mysterious  forces  man  has  harnessed.  This  was 
when,  far  out  at  sea,  battling  with  the  storm  for 
life  itself,  we  heard  the  Marconi  Company  had 
just  long-distance  telephoned  our  families  at 
Chalf  onte,  Atlantic  City,  that  they  had  tried  very 
hard  but  could  get  no  news  of  the  airship,  but 
hoped  all  was  well ! 

During  Sunday  we  did  get  off  a  few  messages 
by  way  of  Cape  Cod — one  that  we  were  running 
25  miles  per  hour  not  working  the  motor,  an- 
other, in  the  dark  hours,  to  the  London  Daily 
Telegraph,  the  New  York  Times,  and  the  Chi- 
cago Record-Herald,  by  our  prearranged  code, 
that  the  equilibrator  was  straining  the  airship, 
but  that  no  damage  had  been  done,  and  that 
while  the  outlook  was  not  so  favorable  we  were 
keeping  up  the  fight.  We  received,  in  addition 
to  many  messages  of  inquiry  and  encouragement, 
one  of  congratulation  from  Hamptons  Mag- 
azine, and  one  from  Mr.  Vananda,  managing 
editor  of  the  New  York  Times,  the  latter  giving 
us  news  of  the  northward  sweep  of  a  tropical 
hurricane  and  other  valuable  meteorological  in- 
formation. Our  wireless  equipment,  small  as  it 
was,  did  wonders.  The  Marconi  Company 
scored  a  marked  technical  triumph.  If  ever  we 


WHISPERINGS  IN  THE  AIR     311 

build  another  airship  it  shall  have  a  similar  equip- 
ment, though  of  far  larger  power  and  range. 

Sunday  night  was  one  of  almost  constant  dan- 
ger. The  wind  blew  strong  again,  the  sea  was 
rough,  the  airship  was  borne  down  almost  to  the 
crest  of  the  waves  in  the  heavier  gusts,  rising 
high  again  in  the  lulls.  Again  we  feared  the  car 
would  break  up  under  the  strain.  Every  time 
there  was  an  unusual  noise  we  started  up  and 
made  anxious  inquiry,  fearing  a  steel  stay  had 
snapped,  that  the  end  was  approaching.  More 
gasoline  and  lubricant  overboard,  and  a  goodly 
part  of  the  beautiful  8-cylinder  motor. 

Yet  we  did  not  lose  our  composure  nor  our 
sense  of  humor.  Once  in  climbing  from  the  life- 
boat up  into  the  car  my  sheath-knife  caught  and 
held  me  fast,  suspended,  dangling  and  kicking, 
and,  I  fear,  growling  savagely.  Loud  and 
Aubert  pulled  me  up,  and  a  moment  later  I  saw 
them  convulsed  with  laughter  at  my  expense.  It 
was  funny;  and  I  laughed  with  them. 

But  for  the  most  part  we  wanted  nothing  so 
much  as  sleep.  We  were  exhausted;  time  and 
again  we  slumbered,  our  last  conscious  thought 
being,  "When  we  awake  we  shall  probably  be 
down  in  the  sea,  but  that  isn't  so  terrible — any- 
thing so  we  may  sleep."  I  do  not  know  what 
the  experience  of  my  comrades  was,  but  my  fitful 
sleep  this  night  was  full  of  dreams — dreams  not 


312  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

of  the  sea,  nor  the  air,  nor  of  impending  disaster, 
broken  down  motors,  a  sound  and  rational  plan 
spoiled  by  faulty  execution,  none  of  these  things. 
Do  you  play  hearts,  that  game  of  cards  in  which 
the  queen  of  spades  is  the  black  beast  you  are 
always  trying  to  escape?  Well,  the  queen  of 
spades  was  always  in  my  hand  or  always  being 
put  upon  me.  And  when  we  awoke — often  with 
Kiddo's  warm  fur  on  our  cheeks — it  was  always 
with  surprise  that  the  America  still  floated  above 
the  seas.  Thus  the  night  passed — a  night  not  to 
be  forgotten. 

We  kept  close  watch  upon  the  only  thing  there 
was  worth  watching — the  height  of  the  airship 
above  the  sea.  Two  of  us  were  always  down  in 
the  lifeboat,  looking  over  the  gunwales  at  the 
serpent  swishing  and  leaping  along  down  below. 
In  the  strong  wind  and  heavy  sea  the  airship 
was  played  upon  by  two  forces — one  the  power 
of  the  wind  to  send  it  forward,  drifting  broad- 
side to  the  direction  of  the  wind;  the  other,  the 
retardation  of  the  heavy  equilibrator  as  it  rushed 
through  the  sea,  tending  to  hold  the  airship  back. 
The  component  of  these  forces  was  of  course  a 
downward  pull.  In  the  heavier  gusts  of  wind 
the  balloon  pulled  one  way  and  the  serpent  the 
other  with  increased  force,  and  with  the  airship 
going  down  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  surface  of 
the  waters. 


5  a 


WHISPERINGS  IN  THE  AIR     313 

At  such  moments  the  watch  in  the  lifeboat 
would  call  out — 

"Three  tanks  up — two  tanks  up — now  she's 
going  down !  Overboard  with  something !" 

And  the  men  up  in  the  steel  car,  standing  by 
cans  of  lubricant,  or  of  gasoline,  or  parts  of  the 
broken-up  motor,  threw  weights  over  till  the  dan- 
ger had  temporarily  passed. 

Whenever  a  crackling  or  any  unusual  sound 
was  heard  forward  or  aft  in  the  car,  Loud  and 
Aubert  were  sent  out,  one  of  them  one  way,  one 
the  other,  to  investigate,  to  learn  if  any  of  the 
stays  or  parts  had  broken.  Anxious  moments 
were  these  for  those  of  us  who  awaited  the  report 
—the  report  which  meant  that  we  had  another 
lease  of  life  or  that  in  a  little  while  we  should 
all  be  thrown  into  the  ocean  as  a  result  of  the 
breaking  up  of  our  ship.  Great  was  the  relief 
to  call  out — 

"Anything  wrong  at  your  end,  Louis?" 

And  to  hear  the  cheery  reply: 

"All  right  here,  sir."  " 

"How  is  it  with  you,  Fred?" 

"Nothing  wrong  out  here." 

Then  we  breathed  easier;  but  only  to  go 
through  the  same  experience  half  an  hour  or  an 
hour  later. 

Through  this  dreadful  night  it  became  appar- 
ent enough  to  all  of  us  that  it  was  a  mistake 


314  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

to  try  to  sail  over  a  stormy  ocean  with  nearly 
all  of  our  heavy  equilibrator  floating  upon  the 
waves  and  dragging  the  airship  downward.  But 
it  was  equally  apparent  that  if  the  equilibrator 
had  been  employed  in  accordance  with  the  orig- 
inal design,  it  would  have  shown  itself  a  success- 
ful device.  When  only  half  or  less  than  half  in 
the  sea  its  pull  upon  the  airship  was  not  strong 
enough  to  lead  to  any  trouble.  How  we  did 
curse  the  combination  of  circumstances  which  had 
made  it  necessary  for  us  to  attempt  the  voyage 
with  so  much  of  the  serpent  down  in  the  ocean 
that  it  was  a  hindrance  instead  of  a  help. 

Still,  we  were  not  beaten- — not  quite.  After 
midnight  I  heard  Vaniman  order  Loud  and  Au- 
bert  to  throw  over  more  gasoline — to  take  an 
axe  and  cut  a  hole  in  the  big  steel  reservoir  and 
let  the  precious  fuel  run  out.  Against  this  I 
protested,  pointing  out  to  Vaniman  that  the  wind 
was  fresh  from  the  northwest ;  that  it  was  driving 
us  toward  the  Azores;  that  we  had  one  good 
motor  and  some  gasoline  left,  and  could  prob- 
ably get  more  gasoline  up  from  the  equilibrator 
tanks  as  soon  as  the  sea  should  become  less  bois- 
terous; and  that  it  was  our  duty  to  hold  fast 
to  all  the  gasoline  we  had  and  prepare  to  make 
a  fight  for  it  with  the  engine  should  the  condi- 
tions change  in  our  favor. 

Vaniman  made  no  answer,  but  recalled  the 


WHISPERINGS  IN  THE  AIR     315 

order  to  jettison  more  gasoline.  I  presume  he 
would  have  obeyed  my  instructions  to  start  up 
the  motor  and  make  an  effort  to  run  to  the  east- 
southeast  if  the  weather  conditions  had  held 
any  length  of  time.  But  soon  the  wind  shifted 
more  to  the  north,  and  then  to  the  north-north- 
east and  northeast,  and  hlew  more  strongly.  In 
an  hour  it  became  necessary  to  throw  over  more 
gasoline  in  order  to  prevent  the  lifeboat  being 
torn  away  as  it  struck  the  waves;  and  as  I  saw 
the  gasoline  streaming  down  into  the  sea  I  real- 
ized that  the  hope  of  reaching  Europe,  or  at  least 
the  Azores,  was  practically  at  an  end,  though 
we  were  still  determined  to  take  advantage  of 
any  opportunity  that  might  arise  for  a  renewal 
of  the  struggle.  That  opportunity  never  came. 
This  was  the  turning  point  of  the  voyage — 
this  shift  of  the  wind  into  the  northeast.  And 
right  here  I  wish  to  record  a  few  facts:  The 
America  was  a  splendid  airship.  She  held  gas 
admirably,  and  all  the  predictions  that  we  should 
fail  through  rapid  loss  of  hydrogen,  were  wide 
of  the  mark.  Her  structural  strength  was  su- 
perb, as  was  shown  in  these  severe  tests.  In  all 
respects  save  over-weight  and  lack  of  buoyancy 
due  to  faulty  execution  of  the  design,  and  in  part 
to  the  poor  installation  of  one  of  the  motors,  she 
was  a  successful  airship.  Had  we  been  able  to 
execute  the  work  of  construction  fairly  close  to 


316  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  plans,  to  start  with  plenty  of  fuel,  the  equili- 
brator  a  reserve  in  the  air  instead  of  a  drag  in 
the  sea,  and  the  part  of  it  that  was  in  the  sea  at 
the  start  rapidly  lifted  as  fuel  was  fast  converted 
into  miles  made,  the  America  could  have  sailed 
three  thousand  miles  instead  of  one  thousand. 

The  critics,  expert  or  laymen,  who  say  it  was 
a  mad  scheme,  impossible,  foredoomed  to  failure, 
do  not  know  what  they  are  talking  about.  We 
do  know.  Take  the  America  as  she  was  on  this 
voyage.  Avoid  the  mistakes  of  the  over-weight- 
ing and  the  engine  breakdown — mistakes  which 
should  have  been  averted  with  a  little  more  time 
and  competent  handling — and  she  could,  in  my 
opinion,  have  reached  the  other  side  of  the  Atlan- 
tic even  under  the  wind  and  weather  conditions 
which  prevailed  after  we  left  Atlantic  City. 

Under  the  circumstances  which  did  exist,  one 
motor  gone  and  most  of  the  fuel  poured  into  the 
sea  instead  of  into  the  engines,  and  the  wind 
holding  strong  in  the  northeast,  it  was  necessary 
to  begin  to  think  in  earnest  about  saving  our 
lives.  All  Monday  afternoon  we  were  talking 
about  that.  The  wind  was  driving  us  toward 
Bermuda,  and  inspection  of  our  chart  showed  the 
Bermudas  were  the  nearest  land. 

Since  leaving  Atlantic  City  we  had  not  been 
able  to  get  a  satisfactory  observation  of  the  sun, 
nor  of  any  other  heavenly  body,  for  position,  on 


WHISPERINGS  IN  THE  AIR     317 

account  of  the  thick  weather.  But  at  noon  on 
Monday  we  got  the  sun,  and  with  the  latitude 
thus  obtained  and  our  dead  reckoning,  rough  as 
it  was,  we  knew  approximately  where  we  were — 
about  four  hundred  miles  east  of  the  Hampton 
roads. 

Our  plan  was  as  follows:  To  hold  the  one 
good  motor,  and  all  the  gasoline  we  could,  in  re- 
serve for  a  final  struggle  to  reach  the  Bermudas 
or  the  Florida  coast,  meanwhile  permitting  the 
ship  to  drift  with  the  wind. 

It  should  be  pointed  out  that  while  the  Amer- 
ica did  thus  drift  from  Sunday  forenoon  till  the 
end  of  the  voyage,  it  is  not  true  that  she  was  all 
this  time  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds.  We  could 
have  started  up  the  motor  at  any  time  and  made 
some  headway  to  the  southeast  or  east-southeast 
if  the  conditions  had  so  changed  as  to  warrant 
the  effort  with  the  reduced  fuel  supply  we  had 
at  our  command.  We  were  never  without 
power,  never  without  gasoline. 

It  is  also  proper  to  mention  that  the  total 
length  of  the  voyage  of  the  America  over  the 
Atlantic  was  approximately  equal  to  the  distance 
from  Camp  Wellman  in  Spitzbergen  to  the 
North  Pole  and  half  way  back  again. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE    PROBLEM    OF   ESCAPE 

To  get  ourselves  out  of  the  airship  and  safely 
upon  the  sea  in  the  lifeboat  was  anything  but 
a  simple  problem.  We  studied  that  problem 
carefully,  you  may  be  sure.  The  America  was 
running  an  average  of  from  15  to  18  knots  per 
hour  with  the  wind.  She  was  drifting  broadside 
on  to  the  course,  which  meant  that  as  the  life- 
boat was  launched  into  the  sea,  it,  too,  must  take 
the  water  headside  on.  What  we  asked  our- 
selves, over  and  over,  was  this:  Will  not  the 
craft  be  instantly  capsized  and  foundered  ?  And 
if  she  be  lucky  enough  to  escape  that  fate,  how 
about  the  equilibrator,  tearing  along  a  few  feet 
in  the  rear?  Will  it  not  strike  the  struggling 
boat  with  the  force  of  its  two-tons  moving  rapidly 
through  the  water,  act  as  a  battering  ram,  and 
smash  us  to  pieces? 

These  were  pretty  serious  problems,  indeed, 
and  we  considered  them  long  and  earnestly, 
though  without  the  slightest  trace  of  excitement. 
One  proposal  which  found  favor  for  a  time  was 
that  of  Louis  Loud  to  be  let  down  in  a  boat- 

318 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  ESCAPE     319 

swain's  chair,  and  there,  dangling  between  sea 
and  sky  and  leaping  from  wave  to  wave,  with 
his  legs  gripping  the  swaying  hawsers,  to  cut 
the  equilibrator  away,  thus  removing  that  part 
of  the  danger.  There  is  not  the  slightest  doubt 
in  my  mind  that  the  brave  fellow  would  have 
accomplished  this  daring  feat  if  he  had  had  the 
chance;  but  upon  reflection  we  decided  it  would 
never  do  to  cut  loose  the  equilibrator,  for  then 
the  America  would  rise  to  the  clouds,  and  when 
she  came  down  again  we  had  little  in  the  way 
of  ballast  to  lighten  her  arid  prevent  her  going 
plump  into  the  sea,  lifeboat  and  all. 

We  had  this  very  day  an  illustration  of  the 
supreme  importance  of  the  equilibrator  or  some- 
thing else  to  take  its  place  in  principle.  The 
sun  came  out  clear  and  warm.  The  gas  ab- 
sorbed heat  and  expanded  rapidly.  Tank  by 
tank  the  serpent  was  lifted,  and  finally  the  en- 
tire device  was  in  the  air,  and  the  ship  rising. 
At  this  point  a  stupid  bit  of  work  was  done. 
The  only  way  to  prevent  a  heating  balloon  or 
airship  rising  to  a  great  altitude  is  to  let  out 
gas  the  moment  the  aerostat  starts  upward;  for 
if  it  be  permitted  to  rise,  every  yard  of  ascent 
means  diminished  atmospheric  pressure,  and 
consequently  greater  and  greater  expansion  of 
the  gas  and  more  and  more  altitude. 

On  this  occasion,  notwithstanding  my  order  to 


320  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  contrary,  Mr.  Vaniman,  who  was  nearest 
the  valve-cords,  opened  still  wider  the  air-valves 
instead  of  the  gas- valves.  The  result  was  that 
instead  of  letting  out  of  the  distending  balloon, 
for  every  thousand  cubic  feet  of  expansion,  a 
weight  of  about  7  Ibs.  of  hydrogen,  there  was 
let  out  a  weight  of  about  80  Ibs.  of  air.  Many 
thousand  cubic  feet  were  thus  set  free.  Re- 
lieved of  this  load,  the  America  shot  upward 
—up  so  rapidly  that  we  all  suffered  pains  in  our 
ears,  whose  membranes  are  adjusted  to  normal 
atmospheric  pressure  and  find  it  difficult  to  ac- 
commodate themselves  quickly  to  sudden  changes, 
to  a  rapid  ascent  or  descent.  Up  we  went 
nearly  3,000  feet  as  shown  upon  our  barograph. 
My  aneroid  dropped  1.8  inches  in  that  needless 
ascent.  Beautiful  indeed  was  the  view  at  that 
height,  the  weed-strewn  waters  of  the  eastern 
edge  of  the  gulf  stream  below  us,  glistening  in 
the  sun,  but  it  was  a  scenic  delight  obtained  at 
the  sacrifice  of  about  one-seventeenth  of  our 
whole  volume  of  gas — too  high  a  price. 

And  when  the  airship  started  down — having 
found  her  equilibrium  in  the  lighter  air  up  high 
—she  acquired  a  great  momentum;  again  the 
pains  in  our  ears ;  and  but  for  the  two-ton  equili- 
brator  dangling  below  her  she  would  have  gone 
souse  into  the  sea.  As  it  was,  the  serpent  went 
in  almost  its  full  length  before  the  America  re- 


I 

l-j    - 


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8    w 

3  c 


cj 

Is- 


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THE  PROBLEM  OF  ESCAPE     321 

bounded  and  rose  200  or  300  feet  again  like  a 
rubber  ball.  Gradually  she  settled  down. 
After  that,  orders  to  open  the  gas-valves  the  mo- 
ment the  tail  crept  up  out  of  the  water,  were 
obeyed.  Lying  in  the  water-tight  compartment 
of  the  lifeboat,  watching  the  aneroid  and  the 
barograph,  I  could  tell  the  moment  the  serpent 
was  rising  from  the  sea  without  looking  over  the 
side  of  the  ship. 

It  was  a  serious  question  during  this  Monday 
afternoon  if  we  could  keep  the  America  afloat 
during  the  night,  as  the  gas  cooled  after  the  sun 
should  set.  We  decided  to  try  it,  hazardous  as 
it  was — hazardous  because  if  it  should  come  on 
to  blow  during  the  night,  or  rain,  and  thus  drag 
the  airship  down  to  the  ocean,  we  should  be  com- 
pelled to  launch  the  lifeboat,  no  matter  what  the 
conditions.  With  a  high  wind  or  rough  sea  that 
would  mean  disaster.  And  it  was  with  most 
anxious  eyes  I  watched  the  barometer;  we  were 
approaching  the  area  of  the  cyclone  we  had 
heard  by  wireless  was  coming  up  the  coast,  and 
which  did  strike  Florida  a  few  hours  later  with 
destructive  force;  had  the  glass  shown  any 
marked  drop  we  should  have  taken  to  the  life- 
boat at  once  for  fear  of  running  into  the  edge 
of  the  storm. 

Irwin  told  me  that  day  a  regular  steamer  left 
Bermuda  Monday.  Taking  my  chart,  reckon- 


322  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

ing  our  position  and  course,  and  also  the  course 
and  probable  speed  of  the  steamer,  my  conclu- 
sion was  we  should  have  at  least  a  chance  to 
pick  her  up  Tuesday  forenoon.  It  is  always 
well  to  be  an  optimist.  And  if  we  had  to  launch 
the  lifeboat,  and  run  the  risk  of  foundering  and 
being  smashed  by  the  steel  serpent,  it  would  be 
pleasant  to  have  a  steamship  somewhere  in  the 
neighborhood. 

This  third  night  out,  a  bright,  full  moon  bril- 
liantly illumined  the  waters.  Wind  from  the 
northeast,  about  15  to  18  miles  per  hour. 
Warmer,  and  the  gas  did  not  contract  as  much 
as  we  had  feared.  Not  so  difficult  to  keep 
afloat.  Only  a  little  lubricant  and  remaining 
parts  of  the  motor  thrown  overboard.  Barring 
the  uncertainty  as  to  how  we  were  to  get  out 
of  the  dilemma,  an  agreeable  experience.  Most 
of  the  crew  slept  fairly  well — and  heaven  knows 
they  needed  it.  I  had  had  more  rest,  and  stood 
watch  most  of  the  night,  eyes  alert  for  signs  of 
a  ship — which  I  had  a  belief  we  should  find.  I 
am  not  a  fatalist,  nor  superstitious,  nor  anything 
of  that  sort.  But  I  had  been  in  so  many  tight 
corners,  and  always  getting  out  of  them  with 
an  approximately  whole  skin,  that  not  for  a 
moment  did  I  doubt  we  should  get  out  of  this 
one,  sometime,  somehow. 

That    Bermuda    steamship    would    be    about 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  ESCAPE     32B 

right.  I  looked  for  her  so  intently,  and  at  times 
so  drowsily,  my  eyes  began  seeing  things  in  the 
gleaming  horizon  or  the  gloomier  depths  covered 
by  passing  clouds.  I  saw  a  hundred  steamers, 
some  of  them  full  electric  lighted  from  stem  to 
stern;  trains  of  cars,  rushing  automobiles,  tall 
buildings  shining  with  lights.  Then  I  shook 
myself,  and  saw  nothing  at  all,  only  to  drowse 
again,  and  have  more  optical  delusions;  then 
rouse,  and  nibble,  and  smoke. 

We  ate  at  all  times,  cold  ham,  ship's  biscuits, 
tinned  meats,  Horlick's  malted  milk  tablets, 
drank  much  water,  and  not  an  ounce  of  spirits 
was  used  on  the  trip.  The  cat  ate,  too ;  now  the 
garret  was  not  so  strange.  We  were  all  set- 
tling down  to  the  strange  life. 

But  we  knew,  each  one  of  us,  this  was  our 
last  night;  we  could  keep  the  America  up  during 
the  following  day,  Tuesday,  but  when  night  fell 
again,  and  the  sun  set  and  the  gas  cooled,  down 
she  must  come  and  into  the  lifeboat  we  must  go, 
be  the  conditions  for  launching  what  they  might 
— favorable  or  fatal.  We  have  not  enough  bal- 
last left  for  another  night. 

How  is  the  barometer?  Is  the  West  Indian 
cyclone  anywhere  in  the  neighborhood?  Where 
is  that  Bermuda  steamer?  And  if  we  don't  see 
her,  what  is  to  become  of  us? 


CHAPTER  XLI 

AIRSHIP    AND    STEAMSHIP    MEET 

At  four-thirty  Tuesday  morning  I  thought  I 
saw  the  lights  of  a  ship;  but  had  so  often  de- 
ceived myself  that  I  looked  again,  long  and  care- 
fully, before  crying  out.  This  time  it  was  sure. 
I  called  to  my  mates;  told  Vaniman  to  get  out 
some  sort  of  a  torch  or  signal;  roused  Irwin  and 
all  the  others.  Vaniman  soaked  some  waste 
with  gasoline,  lighted  it,  suspended  the  blazing 
mass  from  a  wire;  the  steamer  changed  her 
course — they,  had  seen  us. 

Irwin  tried  his  wireless  but  got  no  response. 
Then  he  seized  the  electric  "blinker"  and  with 
Morse  dashes  and  dots  in  flashes  of  light  sig- 
naled to  the  steamer.  Her  officers  replied  in 
the  same  fashion.  We  told  them  we  wanted 
them  to  stand  by,  prepared  to  help  us,  and  they 
said  they  would  do  so.  We  asked  the  name  of 
the  ship;  she  was  the  Trent — the  Bermuda 
steamer  we  had  been  looking  for!  Then  Irwin 
signaled  we  had  wireless  aboard,  and  in  a  short 
time  Mr.  Ginsberg,  the  Trent's  operator,  was 
got  out  of  bed.  From  that  on  we  conversed 

324 


AIRSHIP  MEETS  SEASHIP     325 

freely  back  and  forth  by  wireless.  The  America 
kept  drifting,  and  the  Trent  followed  us,  having 
about  all  she  could  do  to  keep  up  at  her  topmost 
speed. 

Strange  chance  that  brought  these  two  ships 
together — that  gave  us  the  pleasure  of  establish- 
ing another  record,  the  first  rescue  of  an  airship 
by  a  steamship.  If  we  could  not  reach  Europe 
with  the  America,  it  seemed  the  fates  had  con- 
spired to  make  our  adventure  as  thrilling  and 
dramatic  as  if  a  Sardou  or  a  Belasco  had  written 
it  all  out  for  us,  and  we  were  merely  rehearsing. 
If  the  America  had  drifted  a  few  miles  faster 
or  slower,  or  half  a  point  of  the  compass  to  the 
right  or  left;  if  the  wind  had  not  shifted  to  the 
eastward  an  hour  or  two  earlier  in  the  morning; 
and  if  the  Trent  had  not  on  this  voyage  for  the 
first  time  visited  a  Cuban  port  before  starting 
to  New  York,  thus  being  out  of  her  regular 
schedule,  the  ship  of  the  air  and  the  ship  of  the 
sea  would  not  have  come  together.  And  in  that 
case  what  would  have  become  of  us?  We  have 
not  the  slightest  idea. 

Navigator  Simon,  with  the  instinct  of  the 
brave  sailor,  soon  blurted  out  that  we'd  better 
stick  to  the  America  and  make  a  run  for  it.  But 
that  was  instinct,  not  reason.  We  should  have 
been  forced  to  leave  our  ship  within  twelve  hours 
at  most,  and  had  we  run  into  the  cyclone  area, 


326  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

as  was  not  improbable,  it  might  have  gone  very 
hard  with  us.  The  chance  for  safety  at  hand, 
it  would  have  been  madness  to  go  on,  with  noth- 
ing to  be  gained  by  the  further  hazard. 

But  how  to  get  out  of  the  airship  and  upon 
the  Trent?  It  was  not  as  easy  as  it  looked.  In 
fact,  it  was  that  same  big  problem  we  had  so 
often  and  so  anxiously  considered.  There  was 
the  danger  that  the  lifeboat  would  be  swamped 
or  crushed  in  launching  her.  But  we  could  find 
no  other  way.  Vaniman  did,  indeed,  dream  of 
having  the  Trent  come  up  and  get  a  line  to  us, 
when  we  were  to  be  transferred  to  her  deck  by 
life-buoys.  An  effort  was  made  to  attach  a 
line,  but  it  was  lucky  it  was  not  successful,  for 
if  it  had  been  probably  the  straining  of  the  line 
would  have  pulled  the  steel  car  of  the  America 
in  pieces  and  thrown  us  into  the  sea.  Captain 
Down  came  very  near  us,  incurring  the  danger 
of  collision  or  of  the  ignition  of  the  balloon  by 
sparks  from  his  smokestacks,  but  he  handled  his 
ship  with  great  skill  and  fine  judgment.  Other 
plans  were  suggested  and  discussed,  the  Trent 
patiently  following,  her  passengers  now  all  on 
deck  to  witness  the  rare  spectacle,  and,  as  they 
afterward  told  us,  so  fearful  for  our  fate  that 
many  of  them  were  weeping  or  praying  for  our 
escape. 

While  we  were  hesitating  and  discussing,  the 


AIRSHIP  MEETS  SEASHIP      327 

America  lost  her  equilibrium,  and  was  in  im- 
minent danger  of  capsizing,  end  over  end.  The 
air  ballonet  at  one  end  had  not  been  completely 
filled  with  air,  the  supply  pipe  having  become 
deranged.  Thus  that  end  of  the  ship  was  lighter 
than  the  other;  as  this  lighter  end  rose  in  the 
air  the  hydrogen  rushed  to  the  elevated  part, 
greatly  increasing  the  buoyancy  there,  and 
threatening  disaster.  None  of  us  would  have 
been  surprised  if  in  the  next  moment  the  airship 
had  taken  a  header. 

At  this  crucial  juncture  it  was  young  Fred 
Aubert  who  leaped  up  into  the  car,  ran  forward 
to  the  disarranged  pipe,  put  it  in  order,  rushed 
to  the  engine  room,  started  the  service  motor, 
and  kept  it  going  until  the  America  was  once 
more  upon  an  even  keel — a  brave  deed  by  the 
youngster  of  our  party,  of  whom  we  are  all 
proud.  Had  the  America  turned  turtle,  as  she 
came  very  near  doing,  this  is  what  would  have 
happened,  in  all  probability:  The  weight  of  the 
car  would  have  been  thrown  upon  one  end  of 
the  balloon;  the  suspension  would  have  stripped; 
the  car  would  have  been  thrown  into  the  sea. 
We  five  men  in  the  lifeboat  might  have  had 
some  chance  to  save  ourselves.  But  how  much 
chance  would  there  have  been  for  the  brave  boy 
up  aloft? 

That  is  the  sort  of  crew  I  had  with  me — every 


328  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

one  of  them.  To  bring  out  these  qualities  of 
courage,  coolness,  resourcefulness,  good  humor, 
was  worth  all  the  cost  of  the  voyage. 

To  end  the  discussion  of  other  plans  of  escape 
I  announced  that  there  was  nothing  for  it  but 
to  go  back  to  our  first  proposal  and  take  our 
chances  in  the  launching  of  the  lifeboat.  Every- 
thing was  made  ready  for  the  maneuver.  Vani- 
man  passed  the  gas  cord  down  within  reach, 
and  began  opening  the  valve,  letting  out  hydro- 
gen and  causing  the  airship  to  descend  slowly; 
Simon  saw  that  all  the  boat  tackle  was  in  proper 
trim;  we  took  our  places  in  the  boat,  ready  for 
the  plunge. 

But  stop — the  cat!  Vaniman,  who  had 
wanted  to  leave  Kiddo  behind,  now  worried  lest 
puss  in  the  water-tight  compartment  should  not 
have  enough  fresh  air,  and  in  his  excitement 
asked  for  time  to  make  an  opening.  Critical  as 
the  moment  was,  we  had  to  laugh;  there  must 
have  been  enough  fresh  air  in  that  compartment 
to  keep  kitty  going  for  at  least  a  month!  We 
had  to  have  our  joke  at  Vaniman's  expense,  even 
if  we  were  to  die  with  it  the  next  minute! 


JACK   IRWIX,   WIRELESS  OPERATOR   AIRSHIP   AMERICA. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

THE    FATES    WERE    KIND    THIS   DAY 

Down  came  the  America  nearer  and  nearer 
the  sea.  We  gripped  the  lashings  of  the  boat, 
and  each  of  us  held  fast  to  a  life-preserver.  No, 
Vaniman  had  none — and  called  attention  to  the 
fact;  so  Louis  Loud  and  Jack  Irwin  promptly 
gave  him  one  of  theirs  and  shared  the  other  be- 
tween them,  though  neither  is  much  of  a  swim- 
mer. Simon  and  Loud  held  the  lines  which  were 
to  release  the  boat  at  a  single  pull. 

When  the  water  was  only  four  or  five  feet 
from  us  the  word  was  given,  snap  went  the  two 
release-hooks  simultaneously,  up  shot  the  light- 
ened airship,  down  into  the  rough  sea  plumped 
our  craft.  She  almost  capsized,  then  righted 
herself  in  a  twinkling.  At  that  instant  the 
dreaded  equilibrator  hit  us,  bruised  Irwin  and 
Loud,  and  stove  a  hole  in  the  forward  compart- 
ment of  the  boat,  fortunately  above  the  water- 
line — probably  the  kind  fates  were  eager  to 
make  sure  kitty  had  enough  air — and  it  was  all 
over.  In  ten  seconds  from  the  pull  on  the  re- 
lease-hooks we  were  calmly  riding  the  waves  in 

329 


330  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

a  staunch,  well-provisioned  and  watered,  fully- 
equipped  lifeboat,  prepared  to  sail  to  land  or 
wait  to  be  picked  up  by  some  passing  ship. 
There  was  some  satisfaction  in  the  thought  that 
we  had  really  saved  ourselves,  as  the  Trent  did 
not  put  a  boat  over  into  the  water;  which  her 
officers  were  prepared  to  do,  but  could  not  for 
this  reason:  the  moment  the  Trent  should  stop 
her  engines  and  slacken  speed  sufficiently  to 
permit  of  the  safe  launching  of  one  of  her  boats, 
the  fast-drifting  America  would  have  run  away 
from  her,  and  it  was  doubtful  if  the  steamship 
would  again  be  able  to  overtake  us.  As  it  was, 
we  were  running  about  as  fast  as  the  Trent 
could  steam.  We  had  foreseen  this  possibility, 
and  prepared  in  case  of  necessity  to  start  our 
motor  and  try  to  bring  the  America  round  under 
her  own  power  so  that  the  steamship  might  over- 
haul us.  For,  to  tell  the  truth,  we  were  glad 
enough  to  have  the  ship  somewhere  near  by 
when  we  resorted  to  the  dangerous  experiment 
of  launching  our  lifeboat.  Now  we  were  in  our 
boat,  the  cat  and  all,  and  barring  accident  or 
hurricane  could  probably  have  taken  care  of  our- 
selves. 

But  there  was  the  splendid  and  now  famous 
Trent,  a  ship's  length  away,  her  passengers  and 
crew  waving  welcome  to  us  in  their  joy  that  we 
had  escaped  the  perils  which  beset  us.  How 


THE  FATES  WERE  KIND       331 

good  she  looked — one  of  our  men  said  she  ap- 
peared to  him  as  big  as  the  Waldorf-Astoria. 
And  how  glad  we  were  that  we  did  not  have  to 
spend  a  week  or  ten  days  pounding  about  in  the 
sea  in  a  half  open  boat  trying  to  reach  land  or 
meet  a  ship  in  a  part  of  the  ocean  where  ships 
are  but  rarely  seen. 

Still  we  were  not  quite  out  of  danger.  Al- 
most before  we  could  realize  it,  before  we  had 
time  to  unship  oars  and  get  our  somewhat  clumsy 
craft  under  control,  the  Trent  was  upon  us. 
Her  prow,  rising  it  seemed  to  us  as  high  as  a 
church,  was  coming  straight  for  us  at  a  speed 
of  fifteen  knots.  Were  we  to  be  smashed  to 
smithereens  here  within  ten  feet  of  safety  and 
after  escaping  all  these  other  dangers  through 
which  we  had  passed?  Five  seconds  will  tell 
the  story.  She  is  going  to  smash  us!  No,  her 
sharp  stem  hits  us  a  glancing  blow  on  the  side, 
we  sheer  off,  we  are  running  along  her  port 
quarter.  We  are  all  right.  Indeed  the  fates 
are  good  to  us  this  day;  thrice  within  as  many 
minutes  they  have  resolved  dubious  chances  in 
our  favor. 

But  we  are  not  yet  aboard.  One  more  chance 
at  least  one  of  us  must  run  before  safety  is  ours. 
As  we  spin  along  the  iron  sides  of  the  big  ship 
the  sailors  on  deck  throw  us  a  line.  Someone 
on  our  craft  sings  out  to  catch  it.  We  all  grab. 


332  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

I  chance  to  be  in  the  middle  of  the  group  of  six. 
We  all  grip  the  line.  But  they  have  made  it 
fast  on  deck,  and  our  lifeboat  is  heavy,  and  the 
ship  is  running  fifteen  knots  the  hour.  The  line 
sings  and  burns  through  our  fingers.  In  some 
way  a  hitch  has  come  into  the  rope;  the  hitch 
is  round  my  right  hand;  the  others  have  let  go, 
but  I  can't.  The  line  winds  round  my  fist, 
draws  tighter  and  tighter,  and  it  flashes  through 
my  mind  that  one  of  two  things  is  sure  to  happen 
—my  fingers  will  go  with  the  rope,  or  I  shall; 
and  what  chance  shall  I  have  to  get  out  of  the 
sea  alive,  dragging  captive  at  the  end  of  a  line 
trailing  at  fifteen  knots?  Of  course  it  was  only 
a  flash;  for  in  two  seconds  it  was  all  over—- 
and strange  to  say,  neither  happened.  My  fin- 
gers were  not  torn  off — I  was  not  dragged  into 
the  sea;  only  a  lacerated  and  bruised  hand,  that 
was  all.  Such  a  day  for  good  luck ! 

But  this  was  not  quite  all.  Just  behind  us  the 
sea  was  boiling.  We  were  nearing  the  propel- 
lers. One  of  our  men  cried  out  that  we  were 
lost.  Were  we  going  to  be  cut  to  pieces  by  those 
rapidly  revolving  blades  of  the  ship  the  fates 
had  sent  to  save  us?  Into  the  whirlpool  we 
drifted,  and  for  a  moment  the  outcome  was 
rather  doubtful;  but  the  motion  of  the  waters 
sent  us  safely  past  the  propellers.  The  Trent 
was  running  away  from  us.  We  were  rolling  in 


THE  FATES  WERE  KIND       333 

the  trough  of  the  sea.  "That  must  have  been 
our  ninth  escape,  from  Davy  Jones'  locker," 
quoth  sailor  Simon;  "told  you  it  was  a  good 
thing  to  have  a  cat  along — cats  have  nine  lives!" 

At  last  we  wrere  safe  on  board  the  Trent, 
where  we  were  received  with  amazing  kindness 
by  Captain  Down,  his  officers  and  crew,  and  all 
the  passengers.  Soon  we  were  again  in  wire- 
less communication  with  the  shore,  and  learned 
of  the  more  than  generous  interest  and  sympathy 
the  people  of  the  whole  world  had  felt  for  us 
during  our  adventurous  wandering,  and  for 
which  my  comrades  and  I  feel  more  grateful 
than  words  can  tell. 

Upon  a  printed  passenger  list  of  the  Trent 
there  soon  appeared  this  postscript: 

Picked  up  at  sea,  from  the  Airship  America, 
Oct.  18,  1910: 

W.  Wellman  M.  Vaniman 

M.  Simon  L.  Loud 

J.  Irwin  F.  Aubert 

The  last  we  saw  of  our  good  airship,  which 
had  carried  us,  under  her  own  power  and  drift- 
ing, a  little  more  than  a  thousand  statute  miles 
over  the  sea,  she  was  floating  about  800  feet 
high,  375  nautical  miles  east  of  Cape  Hatteras. 
A  day  or  two  later,  in  all  probability,  she  dis- 


334  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

appeared  beneath  the  waves;  the  gas-valve  was 
tied  open  when  we  left  her,  -and  the  big  steel 
gasoline  reservoir,  with  a  capacity  of  1,600  gal- 
lons, had  been  cut  open  so  that  the  sea  water 
could  enter  and  sink  it.  With  just  a  little 
moistening  of  the  eyes  Vaniman  and  I  said  good- 
bye to  the  big  craft  that  had  brought  us  so  much 
trouble  in  this  world — dropping  us  once  upon 
a  Spitzbergen  glacier,  a  second  time  into  the 
polar  sea,  and  this  third  and  last  time  into  the 
Atlantic. 

Good  old  America,  farewell.  Thank  you  for 
the  noble  comrades  and  rare  experiences  you 
have  brought  me,  for  the  lessons  you  have  taught 
us.  You  played  your  part  in  the  game  of 
progress.  In  the  years  to  come  many  aircraft 
will  cross  the  Atlantic;  and  you  will  be  honored 
as  the  ship  that  showed  the  way. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

NAVIGATOR    SIMON 's   LOG 

One  of  the  most  interesting  narratives  of  the 
voyage  of  the  America  is  the  one  given  in  the 
log  kept  by  F.  Murray  Simon,  the  fine  young 
British  steamship  officer  who  shared  with  me  the 
work  of  steering  the  airship,  keeping  the  dead 
reckoning  and  making  astronomical  observa- 
tions. Mr.  Simon  made  his  entries  hour  by  hour 
as  we  went  along,  and  records  his  experiences 
and  observations  in  frank  and  hearty  sailor  fash- 
ion. I  give  Mr.  Simon's  log  in  full: 

SATURDAY,  Oct.  5,  8 :05  A.  M. 

The  airship  America  is  launched  at  last!  It 
was  with  joyful  hearts  that  we  saw  the  people 
on  land,  policemen  and  firemen,  and  citizens,  let 
go  the  ropes  which  had  held  us.  We  are  thank- 
ful to  get  away  after  the  last  couple  of  weeks 
of  deferred  hope,  and  we  are  all  eager  for  our 
new  experiences  in  the  air. 

Wellman,  Vaniman,  and  First  Assistant  En- 
gineer Loud  had  been  flying  before  at  Spitz- 
bergen.  They  had  been  studying  airships  for 

335 


336  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

years.  We  felt  confident  in  their  judgment,  and 
were  proud  to  sail  with  them.  Jack  Irwin,  the 
wireless  operator;  young  Aubert,  the  second  as- 
sistant engineer,  and  myself  were  having  our  first 
trip  aloft.  The  airship  ascends  slowly  and  gen- 
tly to  a  height  about  80  feet  above  the  ground, 
the  big  equilibrator  weighing  over  a  ton  is  at- 
tached to  our  car  and  soon  we  are  over  the  water. 

"Now,"  we  say  to  ourselves,  "we  will  make 
those  blooming  critics  eat  their  own  words.  They 
have  been  hammering  us  for  the  last  month, 
ridiculing  our  'worn-out  gas-bag,'  an  'old  coffee- 
mill  for  motor,'  telling  us  we  should  never  leave 
sight  of  land,  that  the  wireless  plant  we  carried 
is  a  mere  bluff,  and  that  all  the  men  engaged  to 
work  the  ship  have  'cold  feet.' ' 

I  have  been  rather  nettled  as  I  have  heard 
rude  remarks  in  the  hangar  where  the  airship  has 
been  built,  coming  from  people  who  did  not  know 
the  difference  between  an  aeroplane  and  a  dirigi- 
ble airship.  As  to  myself  and  my  shipmates,  our 
confidence  in  Mr.  Wellman  and  Mr.  Vaniman 
grew  by  leaps  and  bounds  as  we  saw  with  our 
own  eyes  what  a  fine  craft  they  were  building. 
It  was  all  very  new,  very  absorbing,  very  ex- 
citing. "Now,"  we  said  to  ourselves,  "let  those 
landlubbers  who  are  afraid  of  their  own  shadows 
and  who  like  to  criticise  others,  let  the  blighters 
go  to  blazes." 


NAVIGATOR  SIMON'S  LOG     337 

Twice  before  we  got  ready  at  3  A.  M.  to  sail, 
but  when  the  conditions  off  the  coast  were  right 
they  were  all  wrong  along  the  transatlantic  route, 
and  when  they  were  all  right  on  the  transatlantic 
route  strong  winds  blew  on  the  coast.  Critics 
hadn't  realized  there  must  be  reasonable  agree- 
ment in  local  and  transatlantic  conditions  before 
we  could  start. 

8:10. — Fog  is  very  dense,  but  it  is  absolutely 
calm.  An  airship  can  do  with  the  calm,  and  we 
must  take  the  bad  with  the  good.  The  air  is  like 
pea  soup,  and  all  we  can  see  on  the  Parade  of 
Atlantic  City  is  the  dim  outline  of  a  huge  build- 
ing, which  gives  us  an  idea  of  our  shore  posi- 
tion. 

Mr.  Vaniman,  our  Chief  Engineer,  did  not 
start  the  engines  when  the  police  and  firemen  let 
go  the  ropes  at  the  water's  edge,  because  the 
racket  kicked  up  by  our  motors  would  have 
drowned  our  voices,  and,  being  close  to  land,  we 
wanted  absolute  silence.  Until  we  reach  open 
waters  we  depend  more  upon  our  ears  than  upon 
our  eyes  for  guidance. 

My  great  doubt  all  along  has  been:  "How 
should  we  get  away?" — we  were  so  big,  and  on 
land,  which  was  not  our  natural  element,  we  were 
so  clumsy!  All  of  us  were  so  delighted  to  get 
aloft  for  the  first  time.  We  think  we  may  have 
a  chance  of  reaching  Europe  by  the  air  lanes, 


338  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

and  at  least  we  shall  make  a  record  for  di- 
rigibles. 

I  can't  help  thinking  what  our  critics  would 
have  said  if  we  had  been  found  wrecked  at  At- 
lantic City.  We  felt  our  responsibility,  every 
man  of  us.  We  are  strong  enough  to  carry 
thirteen  tons,  and  in  a  dead  calm  we  expect  to 
make  twenty  knots  an  hour.  The  difference  be- 
tween our  expectations  and  our  realizations  will 
be  the  great  lesson  of  this  trip. 

A  little  motor-boat,  occupied  by  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  New  York  Times  and  the  Lon- 
don Daily  Telegraph  towed  us  through  the 
channels  into  deep  water.  We  can  hear  the 
voices  of  Mr.  Bullen,  Mr.  Russell,  and  Mr. 
Chamberlin,  secretary  of  the  expedition,  talk- 
ing together,  but  they  cannot  hear  us,  because 
of  the  exhaust  from  their  motor.  What  a  nui- 
sance these  motors  are ! 

The  newspaper  representatives  are  just  as  de- 
lighted as  Mr.  Wellman  and  crew,  to  see  the 
airship  under  way.  They  were  to  have  come 
with  us  on  a  trial  trip,  but  unhappily  the  weather 
kept  us  in  Atlantic  City  so  long  that  we  were 
obliged  to  leave  without  a  trial  trip.  It's  a  big 
risk,  of  course,  but  people  who  go  maiden  flights 
in  airships  are  prepared  to  take  risks. 

8 :20  A.  M. — The  skipper  of  the  motor-boat  hails 
us,  saying :  "The  water  is  getting  rough,"  and  he 


NAVIGATOR  SIMON'S  LOG      339 

must  cast  off  the  tow  rope.  Without  waiting  for 
any  reply  from  us,  he  let  go  and  turned  his  nose 
homeward. 

All  the  time  we  have  been  towed  to  sea,  I  am 
chiefly  worried  by  our  cat,  which  is  rushing 
around  the  airship  like  a  squirrel  in  a  cage.  I 
was  at  the  wheel  and  Jack  Irwin,  the  wireless 
man,  who  was  seated  in  the  lifeboat  suspended 
from  the  car  of  the  airship,  cried  out  to  me,  "This 
cat  is  raising  hell;  I  believe  it's  going  mad."  He 
said  we  had  better  leave  it  behind.  I  replied, 
"We  must  keep  the  cat  at  all  costs;  we  can  never 
have  luck  without  a  cat  aboard."  Mr.  Vaniman 
thought  we  should  send  the  poor  distracted  pussy 
ashore,  and  our  first  counsel  together  aboard  the 
airship  America  related  to  the  fate  of  the  cat! 
Finally  we  put  pussy  in  a  canvas  bag  and 
lowered  him  down  to  the  water's  edge.  How  he 
must  have  scratched  and  struggled.  We  could 
feel  the  rope  vibrating  and  we  knew  that  the  cat 
was  mad  with  rage  all  the  time. 

Mr.  Vaniman  thought  the  newspaper  repre- 
sentatives would  like  to  keep  the  cat  as  a  sou- 
venir. However,  the  water  is  so  rough  that  the 
motor  was  unable  to  approach  and  take  the  sack. 
So  we  decided  to  haul  poor  pussy  aboard  again. 
It  is  a  good  thing  for  us  that  we  didn't  lose  the 
cat,  because  he  suddenly  discovered  that  he  could 
have  been  in  a  worse  place  than  an  airship, 


340  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

and  henceforth  began  to  behave  himself  fairly 
well. 

8:25  A.  M. — We  start  the  big  motor  and  com- 
mence to  forge  ahead  with  our  own  propellers, 
making  about  15  knots  an  hour  for  a  start. 
Everybody  as  happy  as  can  be!  This  was  the 
moment  we  had  been  anticipating  for  months. 
The  conditions  are  not  ideal,  but  we  feel  it's 
better  to  put  to  sea  in  half  a  gale  of  wind  than 
to  stay  on  land. 

Jack  Irwin,  the  wireless  operator,  has  come 
from  the  hospital  with  a  wounded  leg  to  take 
his  place  in  the  crew.  His  foot  pains  him,  but 
he  is  so  glad  that  he  has  not  been  left  behind  that 
he  laughs  and  jokes  like  a  happy  schoolboy. 
Mr.  Wellman  says  to  me:  "I'm  happier  now 
than  I  have  been  for  the  last  four  months." 

My  first  test  of  the  wheel  encourages  us.  I 
find  the  airship  steers  remarkably  well.  It  is 
exactly  the  same  as  steering  a  ship  in  the  water, 
and  I  enjoy  my  job.  I  am  sitting  down  steer- 
ing, a  thing  unheard-of  in  the  ordinary  ship. 
My  view  ahead  is  obstructed,  and  so  I  cut  two 
circular  holes  in  the  nacelle  of  the  car. 

In  this  nacelle — a  sort  of  canvas  gangway  over 
156  feet  long — we  must  live  and  work.  We 
have  three  windows  on  either  side  of  the  car 
made  of  mica,  nicely  fitted  into  the  canvas-like 
portholes.  In  the  lifeboat  Mr.  Wellman  seats 


NAVIGATOR  SIMON'S  LOG      341 

himself  on  the  lookout.  He  is  to  share  with  me 
the  work  of  steering,  and  I  shall  relieve  him  on 
the  lookout.  There  is  a  sort  of  hammock  in  the 
nacelle  for  each  of  us,  but  it  is  very  narrow. 
When  we  cannot  sleep  in  the  lifeboat  we  will 
sleep  on  the  floor,  which  is  a  sort  of  wooden 
rafter  over  the  long  gasoline  tank  forming  the 
keel  of  our  craft.  We  shall  sleep  just  when  and 
how  we  can,  and  the  same  remark  applies  to  eat- 
ing. 

The  worrying  and  buzzing  of  the  motors  pre- 
vents much  conversation  between  the  car  in  which 
the  helmsman  is  stationed  and  the  lifeboat  slung 
below  the  car  in  which  the  lookout  and  the  wire- 
less man  are  stationed.  They  have  thought  of 
this,  and  we  have  two  speaking  tubes,  one  from 
the  wheel  to  the  engine  room  and  the  other  from 
the  wheel  to  the  lookout.  Loud,  who  is  a  Chicago 
boy,  says  he  fitted  the  tube  himself  and  swears 
it  will  work  what  he  calls  "fine  and  dandy." 

10:20  A.  M. — Now  we  stop  the  big  motor,  not 
because  there  is  any  breakdown  but  to  give  Jack 
Irwin  a  chance  to  speak  to  old  pals  in  Atlantic 
City,  for  we  have  pals  there  as  well  as  critics. 
They  spent  $12,000  to  build  us  the  hangar  in 
which  the  airship  was  constructed,  and  if  the 
hangar  blows  down  they  will  build  us  another. 

Irwin  was  able  to  get  in  touch  with  the  wire- 
less man  on  the  pier  at  Atlantic  City  within  one 


342  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

hour  after  sailing,  and  mighty  pleased  he  seemed. 
It  wasn't  a  very  great  feat  from  the  Marconi 
point  of  view,  but  such  a  feat  never  before  had 
been  attempted  between  an  airship  and  the  shore. 
The  novelty  of  everything  fascinates  us,  and  as 
time  elapses  we  rejoice  freely. 

Fog  is  still  all  around  us;  we  are  all  alone  in 
the  air,  and  it  is  good  to  hear  Irwin  exchanging 
wireless  messages  with  the  shore.  While  we 
were  in  communication  with  shore  a  full  power 
steamer  kept  jamming  us  with  their  electrical 
waves  and  prevented  our  messages  getting  ashore 
until  the  steamer  shut  up. 

Irwin  tells  us  that  the  wireless  operator  at 
Atlantic  City  is  mad  with  rage.  He  realizes  he 
is  taking  the  first  message  from  an  airship  and 
that  the  whole  world  is  clamoring  for  the  news. 
The  Atlantic  City  man  got  quite  abusive,  and  by 
means  of  the  Hertzian  waves  called  the  operator 
aboard  the  big  vessel  a  "blithering  idiot." 

"Get  off,  you  scamp!"  he  shouted  from  At- 
lantic City  Pier.  "There's  an  airship  on  the  line. 
I'm  trying  to  make  a  record  and  there  you  go 
butting  in."  The  big  vessel  shut  up. 

Messages  of  congratulation  come  from  the 
shore.  We  answer  them.  Irwin  seems  very 
proud  of  himself.  He  smiles  all  the  time  and 
smokes  his  cigarette,  and  doesn't  care  a  rap  about 
his  foot.  He  sees  a  prospect  of  retirement  from 


NAVIGATOR  SIMON'S  LOG      343 

wireless  work  and  a  pretty  rich  job  on  the  music 
hall  stage.  He  tells  us  we  shall  all  be  heroes, 
and  just  as  soon  as  he  gets  back  to  land  he  will 
appear  in  the  monologue  describing  the  perils 
of  the  airship  on  the  vast  deep.  We  tell  him  to 
stop  his  nonsense  or  we  will  throw  him  overboard. 
Irwin  responds  that  we  can't  do  without  him! 
and  he  certainly  is  useful. 

10:30  A.  M. — We  start  our  second  motor  so  as 
to  give  the  other  a  rest.  Our  plan  is  to  get  as 
much  sea  room  as  possible,  to  give  the  land  a 
wide  berth,  so  in  the  event  of  getting  strong 
southerly  wind  we  shall  not  blow  ashore  on  the 
coast  and  so  rejoice  our  critics.  Our  idea  is  to 
avoid  the  land  by  going  due  east  until  we  get 
sea  room,  then  we  will  turn  our  nose  toward 
Europe. 

So  far  we  do  not  know  what  the  airship  can 
do,  and  everything  is  speculation,  chiefly  about 
the  equilibrator  and  how  it  might  be  affected  by 
rough  sea. 

Things  look  pretty  good  to  us  on  the  good  ship 
America.  Fog  is  still  thick  and  likely  to  remain 
thick  all  day,  but  there  is  only  a  light  south-south- 
westerly wind  and  the  sea  remains  calm.  We 
ask  ourselves  once  again  what  we  have  asked 
every  day  the  last  month,  "Will  the  balloon  re- 
tain its  gas,  will  the  car  be  strong,  how  will  the 
engines  work,  what  sort  of  speed  shall  we  make 


344  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

when  the  wind  is  against  us,  will  the  strength  of 
the  engines  be  sufficient  to  carry  so  big  a  craft 
along,  will  the  equilibrator  tug  the  life  out  of  us, 
will  the  electric  lighting  prove  satisfactory,  or 
will  it  be  so  damaged  by  the  vibration  as  to  be 
useless;  shall  we  have  to  work  by  torchlight  and 
run  the  risk  of  being  blown  to  bits  in  a  big  aerial 
explosion?" — all  these  things  passed  through  our 
minds. 

The  next  few  days  will  tell  us  everything,  and 
whether  we  succeed  in  reaching  Europe  or 
whether  we  fail,  we  are  all  buoyed  up  by  the 
knowledge  that  we  are  gaining  experience  aloft 
and  ere  we  get  back  to  land  again  we  shall  know 
more  about  just  the  kind  of  craft  wanted  to  cross 
the  Atlantic  Ocean  by  the  air  lanes. 

11:17  A.  M. — Stopped  big  motor,  running  hot. 
That  sand  at  the  hangar  seems  to  have  got  in 
everywhere  and  apparently  our  big  motor  got  its 
share  of  it.  Irwin  takes  advantage  of  silent 
motors  to  send  private  messages  ashore.  We  re- 
ceive congratulations  from  families  of  crew. 
During  this  interval  I  am  growling  like  the  deuce 
at  the  delay.  The  wind  is  freshening  and  we 
are  drifting  to  the  nor'rd  like  a  wisp  of  hay. 

11:38  A.M. — Vaniman  started  big  engine 
again.  We  are  still  making  about  15  knots. 
At  noon  got  out  my  camera  and  took  several 
snapshots  of  the  interior  of  the  ship. 


ENGINE  ROOM  OF  THE   AIRSHIP  AMERICA  LOOKING  AFT. 

Copyright  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  N.  Y. 


NAVIGATOR  SIMON'S  LOG      345 

12:26 — Stopped  motor  again  because  of  more 
sand  in  the  bearings.  I  cannot  help  cursing  that 
sand — it  seems  doomed  to  delay  us.  Irwin  again 
sending  messages.  Received  one  from  Mr. 
Salus,  President  of  the  Hangar  Erection  Com- 
pany, Atlantic  City,  who  says  all  Atlantic  City 
is  excited  and  talking  nothing  but  airship.  De- 
cided to  take  opportunity  of  the  quiet  to  have 
some  lunch.  This  consisted  of  bread  and  ham 
prepared  by  young  Fred  Aubert,  washed  it  down 
by  a  cool  drink  of  water. 

12:45. — After  lunch  we  started  again.  All 
the  afternoon  it  was  pretty  hot  and  we  are  grad- 
ually going  higher  and  higher  until  we  are  lifting 
thirteen  tanks  from  the  water,  say  about  100  feet 
above  the  sea.  When  we  left  Atlantic  City  this 
morning  we  were  lifting  only  three  tanks,  so 
she  has  increased  in  buoyancy,  caused  by  the  ex- 
pansion of  the  gas.  Of  course  this  will  be  re- 
versed at  night  when  the  gas  contracts  propor- 
tionately, and  the  tendency  is  to  come  down,  but 
I  think  we  have  enough  reserve  gas  to  keep  us 
well  afloat  without  sacrificing  any  of  our  gaso- 
line. 

Up  to  this  time  we  have  not  sighted  a  single 
vessel. 

4  P.  M. — Wind  freshening  from  southwest,  and 
steering  not  so  good.  She  will  not  come  nearer 
than  8  points  to  the  wind.  This  blessed  equili- 


346  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

brator  is  the  cause  of  that,  I  think.  Luckily  the 
wind  is  pretty  fair  for  us  and  I  think  we  will 
weather  Nantucket  all  right. 

5 :40  P.  M. — It's  getting  dark  and  gas  is  begin- 
ning to  contract. 

6 :00  P.  M. — Steamer  passed.  Irwin  tried  to 
speak  her  but  she  doesn't  seem  to  be  fitted  with 
wireless.  Now  we  find,  unfortunately,  that  we 
are  coming  down  too  near  the  water  and  we  have 
to  part  with  a  little  gasoline  to  counteract  the 
contraction. 

8 :00. — Now  going  along  through  a  dense  fog 
and  the  motors  were  making  deuce  of  a  noise 
when  I  heard  whistle  in  the  speaking  tube  from 
lookout  in  boat.  I  answered  it  and  lookout 
shouted,  "Do  you  see  that  ship?"  Looking 
ahead  I  saw  through  the  mist  a  large  four-masted 
schooner  not  a  hundred  yards  away.  I  imme- 
diately jammed  helm  hard  a-starboard  and  just 
cleared  her,  our  bilge  passing  over  her  spanker. 
It  must  have  given  the  crew  of  the  schooner  a 
devil  of  a  scare  to  see  us  up  in  the  air  with  the 
motors  spouting  fire  like  some  demon.  I  don't 
suppose  they  had  heard  about  us  and  I  would 
like  to  hear  their  remarks  now. 

9:00  P.M.— Wind  holding  S.S.E.,  curse  it! 
This  will  make  it  difficult  for  us  to  weather  Nan- 
tucket,  but  we  have  got  Hobson's  choice  and 


NAVIGATOR  SIMON'S  LOG      347 

we'll  just  keep  going  and  trust  to  our  luck  to 
keep  clear. 

This  is  the  longest  spell  at  the  wheel  I  ever 
remember  having,  and  I  have  every  prospect  of 
being  here  the  remainder  of  the  night.  Mr. 
Wellman,  the  only  man  who  can  relieve  me,  has 
his  hands  full  elsewhere,  but  on  occasions  like  this 
we  must  expect  long  hours  on  duty. 

This  is  a  night  I  won't  forget.  Sitting  at  the 
helm  tired  and  anxious  as  we  rush  into  the  dense 
fog,  unable  to  hear  anything  but  the  noise  of 
our  motors,  I  realize  that  this  trip  is  no  picnic. 
Two  or  three  times  I  dropped  off  to  sleep  and 
pulled  myself  together  with  a  start.  So  the 
night  drags  on. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

SIMON'S   LOG THE   SECOND   DAY   OUT 

SUNDAY,  4  A.  M. — I  decided  that  the  danger 
of  getting  ashore  seems  over  for  the  present,  and 
big  motor  which  has  been  running  all  night 
stopped  for  the  time  being.  How  quiet  every- 
thing seems! 

As  the  motors  are  stopped  the  ship  turns  broad- 
side to  the  wind  and  we  drift  northeast.  This  is 
pretty  near  our  course  and  will  not  hurt  for  a 
while.  I  was  now  relieved  from  duty  and  lay 
down  alongside  wheel,  leaving  orders  to  be  called 
if  anything  was  heard  or  sighted.  I  soon  fell 
asleep,  too  tired  even  to  dream.  I  had  done 
twenty  hours  at  the  wheel  at  one  stretch. 

5 :52  A.  M. — I  was  awakened,  greatly  refreshed, 
and  feeling  fit  for  another  twenty  hours,  to  find 
wind  freshening  and  sea  getting  rougho  Started 
motor  again  and  proceeded  on  our  course. 

8  A.  M. — Met  a  fisherman  and  observed  strong 
tide  rips,  which  proved  we  were  in  Martha's  Vine- 
yard, which  is  between  Nantucket  Lightship  and 
the  mainland.  I  told  crew  our  position  and  they 

348 


THE  SECOND  DAY  OUT        349 

were  delighted  and  greatly  cheered  up  to  hear 
we  have  made  such  a  good  course. 

Young  Fred  Aubert  was  now  told  off  to  cook 
breakfast,  and  he  started  our  stove  in  the  boat, 
cooking  us  some  ham  and  eggs  and  coffee.  This 
was,  in  my  opinion,  about  the  finest  breakfast  I 
have  had  in  a  long  time. 

I  have  discovered  by  accident  what  our  cat 
will  eat.  Irwin  happened  to  drop  a  piece  of 
biscuit  and  pussy  eagerly  pounced  on  it  and  de- 
voured it.  Apparently  airship  cats  must  not  be 
epicures  if  they  want  to  feel  comfortable. 

After  breakfast  wind  continues  to  freshen  and 
the  sea  is  getting  rougher.  Things  commenced  to 
look  bad  for  us.  All  our  hopes  of  getting  across 
seem  vanishing.  The  acting  of  the  equilibrator 
and  the  increasing  sea  is  something  fierce, 
dragging  us  down  until  the  seas  touch  the  life- 
boat at  times,  pulling  and  straining  at  the  car 
until  we  expect  the  ship  to  go  to  pieces  at  any 
moment. 

Proceeded  to  jettison  gasoline  to  keep  us  above 
water.  It's  a  pity  to  see  that  good  fuel  going  to 
waste,  but  we  have  to  do  it  to  save  the  ship.  I 
would  like  to  have  some  of  those  'longshore  "old 
women"  here  with  us  now. 

In  the  midst  of  all  our  troubles  Irwin  hears 
Atlantic  City  asking  Siasconset  for  news  about 
us,  and  we  hear  Siasconset  answering  "All's  well; 


350  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

getting  along  famously."  Tried  to  reach  both 
stations,  but  failed  owing  to  our  low  power  instal- 
lation. 

During  this  racket  kitty  seems  much  put  out, 
and  she  is  howling  piteously.  I  never  heard  a  cat 
make  such  a  noise  before.  I  threwr  it  into  my 
hammock  and  put  a  blanket  over  it,  after  which  it 
quieted  down. 

Too  hazy  for  any  observations,  but  have  a  good 
idea  of  our  position  from  observing  the  shoal 
patches  of  this  morning. 

2  p.  M. — Quieting  down  a  bit,  so  Davy  Jones 
will  not  get  us  just  now.     We  can  see  now  where 
the  error  in  construction  of  the  ship  lies,  and  if  we 
get  out  of  this  alive  we  will,  with  our  experience, 
be  able  to  build  a  ship  to  overcome  the  obstacles 
which  we  know  exist.     We  had  no  data  to  go  on 
previous  to  this — everything  was  theory.     Let  us 
get  out  of  this  safely  and  another  time  I  am  con- 
vinced we  will  be  successful. 

3  p.  M. — Still  very  hazy,  wind  and  sea  fairly 
quiet.     Thought  I  would  try  to  get  an  observa- 
tion with  an  artificial  horizon  sextant,  as  it  is 
impossible  to  get  one  with  an  ordinary  sextant, 
the  horizon  not  being  visible.     Took  several  ob- 
servations and  decided  that,  like  the  rest  of  these 
artificial  horizon  sextants,  it  was  not  a  particle 
of  good. 

This  afternoon  being  fairly  quiet,  all  hands  hold 


THE  SECOND  DAY  OUT        351 

a  conference,  and  we  decide  that  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  cross  the  Atlantic  in  the  America. 

After  conference  Loud  and  Aubert  begin 
breaking  up  the  big  after-motor  to  throw  over- 
board in  case  we  get  a  repetition  of  this  morning. 
We  now  have  a  chance  of  getting  away  in  the 
boat  and  abandoning  the  America.  Mr.  Well- 
man  sounds  the  crew  and  he  finds  none  of  its 
members  want  to  do  this,  and  they  will  stick  with 
him  as  long  as  the  ship  holds  together.  "We  will 
ride  to  Hades  if  necessary,"  said  one  of  them, 
''but  we  won't  leave  her  until  the  last  moment 
possible." 

This  crew  seems  to  be  made  up  of  the  right 
kind  of  men  and  I  never  wish  to  be  shipmates  with 
a  better  bunch.  They  are  certainly  stickers  and 
there's  nothing  of  the  mollycoddle  about  any  of 
them.  I  chaffed  young  Fred  about  his  little  girl 
waiting  for  him  in  Atlantic  City  and  asked  him 
how  he  would  like  to  see  her.  He  says  he 
wouldn't  mind  being  on  the  comfortable  porch  at 
the  hotel  and  hopes  to  be  again  some  day.  I  as- 
sure him  that  he  stands  a  very  good  chance. 

SUNDOWN. — At  sundown  gas  contracts  again 
and  we  are  approaching  dangerously  near  the 
water.  Dump  the  after-motor  to  lighten  airship 
and  she  rises  considerably.  It  seems  a  pity  to 
see  this  beautiful  motor  go  overboard,  but  it  can- 
not be  helped. 


352  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Wind  comes  away  from  the  northwest  and 
freshens  and  we  are  having  another  lively  night 
of  it,  drifting  to  the  southward  and  eastward, 
making  twenty-five  knots  an  hour  at  times. 
While  drifting,  of  course,  it  is  not  necessary  to 
use  the  helm  or  remaining  motor,  so  we  have 
nothing  to  do  but  sit  up  in  our  aerial  perch  and 
wonder  how  long  she  will  hold  together.  We  all 
had  snatches  of  sleep,  our  watches  now  being  two 
hours  on  duty  and  four  hours  off. 

MONDAY,  4  A.  M. — Called  to  keep  my  watch, 
and  shortly  after  the  wind  eased  considerably  and 
things  began  to  look  joyful  again.  While  I'm  on 
watch  everybody  else  is  asleep.  As  the  crew 
wake  up  one  by  one  I  assure  them  all  is  well  and 
there  are  prospects  of  a  fine  day.  On  hearing 
this  they  all  turn  over  again  and  go  to  sleep 
sounder  than  ever.  Being  the  only  sailor  on 
board,  I  am  supposed  to  know  all  about  weather 
conditions,  and  my  assurance  that  we  are  in  for 
a  good  day  seems  to  relieve  their  minds. 

It  was  a  beautiful  sunrise  and  I  quite  enjoyed 
it.  Commenced  to  feel  hungry,  so  I  scrambled 
down  into  the  boat  and  kitty  and  myself  had  a 
hearty  breakfast. 

At  6:30  Mr.  Wellman  relieved  me  and  told 
me  to  get  some  sleep,  but  I  was  too  anxious  to 
get  observations  and  waited  until  the  sun  was 
high  enough,  when  I  found  our  position. 


BOW  VIEW  OF  THE   AlRSHTP   AMERICA. 

Copyright  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  N.  Y. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

THE  NAVIGATOR'S  LOG — THIRD  DAY  OUT 

As  I  prophesied,  this  is  turning  out  to  be  a 
delightful  day.  The  sun  is  so  strong  that  the  gas 
expands  and  we  commence  to  go  up,  up,  up,  tak- 
ing the  equilibrator  with  us.  Wellman  shouted  to 
Vaniman  to  open  the  valve  of  the  gas  bag  and 
let  her  down,  which  he  did,  but  not  until  we  had 
attained  an  altitude  of  3,600  feet,  after  which  she 
commenced  to  come  down. 

The  vibration  in  our  ears  during  the  ascent  and 
descent  is  something  tremendous.  This  is  caused 
by  the  rapid  change  of  air  pressure,  the  ear  drums 
not  being  able  to  adapt  themselves  quickly  enough 
to  the  different  altitudes. 

On  coming  down  our  equilibrator  struck  the 
water  and  buried  itself  right  up  to  the  head. 
Then  we  bounced  up  like  a  rubber  ball  to  the 
height  of  about  500  feet,  and  repeated  this  per- 
formance until  we  had  once  again  attained  our 
balance.  It  was  quite  a  fine  sensation,  the  White 
City  Scenic  Railway  being  far  outclassed. 

Got  good  sights  for  altitude  at  noon,  and  found 
353 


354  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

our  position  to  be  38  degrees  06  minutes  north, 
66  degrees  21  minutes  west  longitude. 

12:30  p.  M. — Irwin  hears  Siasconset  and  Cape 
Cod  calling  us.  They  are  wireless  voices  in  the 
far  distance.  We  hear  them,  but  on  account  of 
the  narrow  range  of  our  wireless  we  cannot  reply. 
They  tell  us  great  anxiety  exists  on  land  regard- 
ing our  welfare;  they  also  say  that  the  weather 
prospects  for  transatlantic  journeys  as  far  as  the 
Banks  of  Newfoundland  are  good.  We  are  not 
much  concerned  by  weather  prospects  so  far 
afield.  We  are  simply  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind. 

It  is  an  ideal  day.  The  shadow  of  the  balloon 
shows  up  on  the  surface  of  the  water.  I  took  a 
snapshot  of  the  ship.  My  lunch  to-day  consists 
of  dry  biscuit  and  smoked  ham,  after  which  I  had 
a  quiet  smoke  in  the  boat.  All  is  serene. 

It's  a  delightful,  exhilarating  sensation,  this 
floating  between  sea  and  sky.  We  hate  to  think 
that  we  are  really  at  the  mercy  of  the  equilibrator, 
and  that  with  a  little  rough  sea  we  shall  be  jerked 
into  various  stages  of  nervous  collapse.  If  the 
wind  holds  as  at  present  we  will  make  Bermuda. 

We  spend  most  of  the  time  in  the  lifeboat,  and 
we  gaze,  not  without  admiration,  at  the  shapely 
craft  overhead.  Some  day  we  think  there  will 
be  a  fleet  of  aerial  craft  and  we  shall  have  been 
the  pioneers. 

The  lifeboat  is  swung  about  six  feet  below  the 


THIRD  DAY  OUT  355 

long  steel  car,  and  is  always  in  the  sun's  rays. 
A  little  rope  ladder  connects  the  car  with  the 
lifeboat.  It  is  a  beautiful  prospect  this  Monday 
afternoon — a  vast  expanse  of  dancing  sunlit  sea. 
Overhead  there  are  blue  skies  flecked  with  white 
flurries  of  passing  clouds.  We  are  all  as  happy 
as  can  be.  I  could  do  with  a  couple  of  months 
of  this  job.  Apart  from  the  equilibrator  this  sort 
of  journey  pleases  me  just  as  much  as  a  jaunt  to 
Brighton  or  to  Margate. 

We  know  the  poor  old  America  cannot  keep 
afloat  more  than  twenty-four  hours  at  the  out- 
side. Our  sudden  flight  aloft  this  morning  cost 
us  an  immense  amount  of  gas,  and  to  an  airship 
gas  is  lifeblood.  The  America  airship  will  die 
from  sheer  exhaustion,  a  sort  of  bleeding  to  death, 
and  before  the  last  comes  we  must  take  to  the 
boat.  No,  we  shall  not  reach  Europe  this  time. 
It's  deuced  hard  lines  on  Mr.  Wellman  and  the 
crew. 

Vaniman  and  myself  put  the  finishing  touches 
to  the  boat  in  preparation  for  our  departure.  It 
is  only  a  precautionary  measure,  because  we  don't 
intend  to  get  out  until  we  are  kicked  out.  We 
are  content  to  know  that  we  have  learned  suf- 
ficient to  show  that  the  next  airship  must  be 
larger,  more  powerful,  and  must  have  more  re- 
serve force.  There  must  be  an  equilibrator,  but 
it  must  be  an  equilibrator  better  adapted  for 


356  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  purpose.  It  seems  to  us  that  the  lessons  we 
have  learnt  are  well  worth  the  price  we  have  paid. 

You  must  never  cross  the  Atlantic  in  an  air- 
ship without  a  cat.  We  have  found  our  cat  more 
useful  to  us  than  any  barometer.  He  is  sitting 
on  the  sail  of  the  lifeboat  now  as  I  write  washing 
his  face  in  the  sun,  a  pleasant  picture  of  feline 
content.  This  cat  has  always  indicated  trouble 
well  ahead.  Two  or  three  times  when  we  thought 
we  were  "all  in"  he  gave  most  decided  indications 
that  he  knew  we  should  shortly  be  getting  it  in 
the  neck. 

We  are  doubtful  at  times  about  being  able  to 
keep  up  all  night,  but  intend  to  have  a  good  try. 
Mr.  Wellman  is  here,  there,  and  everywhere  su- 
pervising. He  has  a  gift  for  detail  and  is  the 
best  skipper  I  ever  met.  We  simply  await 
events. 

3  P.  M. — We  secure  observations  and  discover 
we  are  making  a  south-southwest  course.  When 
the  engines  were  going  the  car  with  the  canvas 
inclosure  was  warm  enough.  Now  the  engines 
are  out  of  commission  it's  getting  cooler  and 
cooler.  We  have  not  tried  to  reckon  our  distance 
by  the  log  and  have  relied  upon  the  sun. 

From  noon  to  3  to-day  we  drifted  about  36 
miles.  We  could  leave  the  ship  with  safety  this 
afternoon  because  conditions  are  ideal  for  dodg- 
ing that  blessed  equilibrator.  We  have  got  the 


THIRD  DAY  OUT  357 

habit  of  cursing  the  equilibrator  and  yet  we 
learned  without  one  of  some  sort  we  shall  never 
be  able  to  get  to  Europe  by  the  air-lanes. 

I  am  looking  forward  with  pleasure  to  three 
or  four  days  in  the  lifeboat.  It  is  well  stocked 
with  provisions,  water,  and  tobacco.  It  contains 
several  sleeping  berths,  sea  anchor,  and  wireless 
plant.  That  lifeboat  has  always  looked  good  to 
me.  It  is  the  most  compact  little  craft  for  its 
size  I  have  even  seen  and  reflects  credit  upon 
Saunders  of  Cowes,  who  built  it.  My  favorite 
sport  is  boating,  but  whether  my  longshore  ship- 
mates will  regard  two  or  three  days  in  an  open 
lifeboat  in  the  Atlantic  in  the  light  of  sport  I  do 
not  know.  The  boat  has  a  lugsail  and  can  go 
five  knots  with  a  decent  breeze. 

6 :00  P.  M. — The  prospects  for  the  night  are 
fairly  good.  We  are  still  drifting,  drifting,  al- 
ways drifting,  and  at  elevations  from  the  sea 
which  seem  to  be  determined  as  much  by  the  pre- 
vailing breeze  as  our  friend  the  equilibrator. 

We  must  lighten  the  airship,  and  so  we  throw 
overboard  everything  we  can  spare.  Amongst 
other  things  I  jettisoned  a  five-pound  box  of 
sugar,  several  jars  of  bacon  and  some  biscuits. 
They  will  be  no  use  to  us  and  we  may  as  well  give 
the  sharks  a  treat. 

To  our  delight  we  find  the  ship  is  floating  high 
enough  for  the  night — about  three  tanks  above 


358  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  water,  say  a  distance  of  fifty  feet.  There  is 
no  spray  and  no  chance  of  getting  wet. 

We  are  sure  we  will  be  able  to  keep  the  Amer- 
ica going,  and  the  good  Lord  help  us  to  keep 
afloat  until  8  A.  M.,  by  which  time  we  shall  have 
broken  all  records  for  airships.  We  read  with 
glee  a  statement  in  a  local  paper  that  "Mr.  Well- 
man  and  his  airship  will  take  precious  good  care 
never  to  go  out  of  sight  of  land."  We  know  now 
that  we  can  keep  afloat  until  sunrise.  That 
means  that  we  shall  be  still  aloft  until  sundown, 
because  the  sun  expands  the  hydrogen  and  so  in- 
creases our  lifting  strength. 

8 :00  P.  M. — All  the  crew  are  in  the  lifeboat 
smoking  and  spinning  yarns.  It  is  bright  moon- 
light to-night,  millions  of  stars  are  twinkling  and 
the  water  below  gleams  like  silver.  Flying  fish 
hover  around  our  strange  craft,  and  below  big 
batches  of  gulf  weed  drift  lazily  by.  It's  per- 
fectly calm,  peaceful,  and  such  a  contrast  to  Sun- 
day night.  Aubert  said  he  felt  like  going  to 
church. 

We  all  feel  elated — the  reaction,  possibly,  after 
tremendous  strain  during  the  last  two  days.  We 
have  no  fears  for  our  immediate  future.  The 
thoughts  and  conversation  of  the  young  members 
of  our  crew  do  not  revolve  about  such  matters 
as  the  equilibrator,  propellers  and  gasbag,  but 


THIRD  DAY  OUT  359 

stimulated  by  the  surroundings  they  turn  to  cer- 
tain fair  damsels  left  behind  at  Atlantic  City. 
All  our  friends  had  stayed  up  on  Friday  night 
to  see  the  airship  launched  on  Saturday  and  we 
were  certain  that  wherever  we  landed  in  the 
United  States  the  same  faces  would  greet  our»re- 
turn. 

10  p.  M. — Four  of  us  retired  to  sleep,  the  other 
two  remaining  to  keep  watch.  Kitty  came  along 
to  my  hammock  and  nestled  snugly  beside  me, 
purring  as  contentedly  as  if  cozily  seated  by  the 
kitchen  fire.  Kitty  is  one  of  twins.  His  brother 
was  killed  a  few  weeks  ago  by  a  wolfhound  in  the 
hangar. 

TUESDAY,  4  A.  M. — I  was  awakened  at  4  A.  M. 
from  a  sound  sleep  by  Louie  Loud.  It  is  my  turn 
to  relieve  him.  I  growled  like  a  demon  at  being 
turned  out,  but  got  scant  sympathy. 

Mr.  Wellman  and  myself  now  watch  together. 
We  make  ourselves  snug  in  the  lifeboat,  and  yarn 
and  smoke  and  watch.  Mr.  Wellman  is  greatly 
pleased  with  the  endurance  of  the  gas  envelope, 
the  strength  of  the  long  steel  car,  and  the  ten- 
deurs.  He  regrets  most  that  there  has  been  no 
chance  of  testing  the  special  set  of  propellers 
devised  by  Mr.  Vaniman  to  revolve  on  the  axis 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  impart  an  upward  or 
descending  motion  to  the  airship.  That  piece  of 


360  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

machinery  wasn't  able  apparently  to  stand  the 
vibration  of  the  first  motors  we  used,  and  was 
soon  fit  only  for  the  scrap  heap. 

It  is  evident  that  the  discovery  of  some  motor 
which  will  withstand  great  vibration  is  neces- 
sary. Already  Mr.  Wellman  and  Mr.  Vani- 
man  have  in  their  minds  the  sort  of  machinery 
and  airship  which  will  solve  all  difficulties  and 
embody  all  the  practical  lessons  we  have  been 
learning.  Mr.  Wellman  as  he  chats  with  me  in 
the  lifeboat  seems  more  than  ever  convinced  that 
the  Atlantic  can  be  crossed  by  an  airship,  and 
I  believe  he'll  set  to  work  again  if  the  chance 
arises. 

Mr.  Wellman  said  to  me:  "As  soon  as  the 
sun  comes  out  to-day  the  America  will  go  up 
again  well  aloft.  We  will  have  to  let  out  some 
more  of  our  gas,  which  will  mean  we're  about 
done  by  sundown."  I  replied:  "Why  not  draw 
water  and  fill  one  of  the  tanks  as  ballast  so  that 
we  can  keep  down  during  the  day?"  "A  good 
idea,"  said  Mr.  Wellman;  "we'll  try  it." 


CHAPTER  XL VI 

NAVIGATOR   SIMON 's   LOG THE    RESCUE 

TUESDAY,  5  A.  M. — I'm  again  on  my  perch  in 
the  car — a  nice  little  nest  between  the  engines 
— and  I  hear  Mr.  Wellman,  who  is  in  the  life- 
boat, sing  out,  "Why,  there's  a  ship."  I  replied, 
"The  ship  be  bio  wed,  we  can  hang  on  for  an- 
other twelve  hours.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  don't 
want  to  lose  my  little  outing  in  the  lifeboat." 

All  hands  are  called  and  by  means  of  the 
Morse  lamp  we  talk  to  the  ship,  which,  we  learn, 
is  the  Trent  of  the  Royal  Mail  Steamship  Com- 
pany, bound  from  Bermuda  to  New  York.  The 
question  is  again  discussed  whether  we  shall 
leave  the  airship.  We  know  that  we  can  take 
care  of  ourselves  in  the  lifeboat  in  case  of  neces- 
sity, and  at  first  nobody  seemed  particularly  anx- 
ious to  desert  the  America,  but  commonsense 
prevailed  and  soon  our  opinions  may  be  summed 
up  in  the  phrase,  "We  do  love  our  airship,  but 

0  you  Trent!" 

We  realize  that  if  we  miss  this  chance  there 
is  just  the  possibility  we  may  not  get  another. 

1  am  annoyed  because  I  must  miss  my  boating 

361 


362  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

trip  when  I  fiendishly  hoped  to  soak  my  long- 
shoremen shipmates.  (It  was  well,  after  all, 
that  we  did  decide  to  leave  the  ship,  because  a 
little  later  a  big  hurricane  swept  up  the  coast 
destroying  ship  and  mariners.  F.  M.  S.) 

At  first  we  chat  with  the  Trent  with  the  Morse 
lantern,  which  has  a  movable  slide  and  so  com- 
municates dots  and  dashes  of  light  in  the  Morse 
code,  and  afterward  exchange  messages  by  wire- 
less. We  ask  the  Trent  to  stand  by.  We  are 
still  drifting  fifteen  knots  per  hour  and  the  Trent 
is  plugging  along  at  full  speed  to  keep  pace. 
We  ask  them  to  follow  us. 

As  soon  as  I  caught  sight  of  the  Trent  I  knew 
she  was  a  British  ship  by  her  rig,  and  I  knew 
therefore  that  she  would  not  desert  us. 

A  lively  debate  followed  as  to  the  best  ways 
and  means  of  quitting  our  aerial  perch.  We 
were  then  about  eighty  feet  above  the  water  and 
the  equilibrator  was  kicking  up  a  lively  shine  in 
a  moderate  sea.  I  want  to  let  the  balloon  go 
down  and  get  away  in  the  boat  without  delay, 
but  my  shipmates  seem  to  favor  sliding  down  a 
rope  onto  the  Trent's  deck.  I  do  not  think  this 
plan  is  practicable,  and  I  am  afraid  that  during 
the  few  minutes  in  which  I  urged  my  views  I 
used  more  sailor  language  than  I  had  used  for 
years  past.  Finally  it  was  decided  to  launch 
the  boat. 


THE  RESCUE  363 

When  everything  was  ready  to  lower  away  I 
thought  "What  a  fine  chance  to  get  a  snapshot," 
and  so  I  took  my  camera,  which  was  tied  up  in 
an  oilskin  coat,  and  snapshotted  the  Trent  fol- 
lowing us. 

While  in  the  car  I  noticed  upon  the  canvas 
over  two  of  the  hammocks  two  interesting  in- 
scriptions. One  was  "Percy  S.  Bullen,  London 
Daily  Telegraph''  and  the  other  "Isaac  Russell, 
New  York  Times"  "First-class  cabins  re- 
served" was  the  inscription  beneath  the  names. 
I  recalled  that  they  had  been  written  there  at 
the  time  when  it  was  proposed  to  make  a  trial 
trip  from  Atlantic  City,  and  the  "first-class 
cabins"  had  been  duly  allotted  by  Mr.  Wellman. 

I  cut  the  sections  of  the  canvas  from  the  ship 
with  my  clasp  knife  and  will  hand  them  to  Messrs. 
Bullen  and  Russell  as  soon  as  I  see  them.  They 
are  the  only  relics  of  the  ship  to  be  taken  away 
by  the  crew  apart  from  the  lifeboat  and  its  con- 
tents. Meanwhile  the  cat  has  been  taken  to  the 
lifeboat  and  is  put  in  the  after  chamber  and 
screwed  down. 

All  being  ready,  Mr.  Vaniman  opens  the  gas 
valve  and  we  begin  to  descend  toward  the  sea. 
We  came  down  in  a  series  of  gentle  glides.  I 
asked  Louie  Loud  to  attend  to  the  after 
releasing  gear  of  the  lifeboat  while  I  took 
the  forward.  It  is  a  rather  ticklish  job,  but  I 


364  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

know  Louie  is  just  the  right  sort  of  man  for 
the  job. 

Watching  a  favorable  opportunity  I  roared 
to  Louie  "Let  her  go."  We  released  our 
clutches  simultaneously  and  the  boat  splashed 
into  the  water  with  a  mighty  splash.  The  air- 
ship, relieved  of  so  much  weight,  immediately 
soared  skyward.  The  gas  was  escaping  all  the 
time  and  long  before  we  got  aboard  the  Trent 
the  America  was  sinking  toward  the  water  for 
the  last  time. 

The  airship  had  been  drifting  at  the  rate  of 
15  knots  an  hour,  and  we  had  launched  the  boat 
broadside  on — the  only  way  possible.  I  fully 
expected  we  would  capsize,  but  as  we  could  all 
swim  that  would  never  have  troubled  us.  On 
striking  the  water  the  boat  reeled  onto  her  beam 
ends,  but  righted  in  an  instant.  The  equilibrator 
then  struck  her  on  the  port  bow,  knocking  a  hole 
in  the  forward  air  chamber  and  nearly  knocking 
Loud's  head  off.  We  all  felt  delighted  to  get 
clear  without  a  ducking. 

The  Trent,  which  was  following  close  in  our 
wake  at  full  speed,  could  not  stop  immediately, 
and  as  she  swept  past  we  could  see  all  the  pas- 
sengers on  deck  cheering. 

Mr.  Wellman  got  a  lifeline  thrown  from  the 
Trent,  but  it  was  wrenched  from  his  hand,  which 
was  badly  torn  in  an  attempt  to  hold  it.  Now 


THE  RESCUE  365 

we  decided  to  sit  tight  and  wait  for  the  Trent 
to  pick  us  up. 

Mr.  Vaniman  here  found  time  to  become  sea- 
sick, and  for  a  few  minutes  he  was  busy  over 
the  boat's  side.  I  recall  Mr.  Wellman  saying: 
"The  few  minutes  I  have  been  in  the  lifeboat 
persuaded  me  that  I  would  not  like  to  be  in  her 
for  a  few  days."  Loud  found  some  cigarettes, 
which  he  passed  around.  I  got  out  my  pipe, 
thankful  for  a  chance  to  smoke  away  from  the 
blooming  gasoline  engines,  where  there  was  al- 
ways a  chance  of  blowing  up  the  whole  busi- 
ness. 

The  Trent  came  back,  steamed  alongside, 
threw  us  lines,  which  I  made  fast,  and  hauled  us 
to  the  gangway.  Passengers  cheered.  Cap- 
tain kindly  consented  to  take  our  lifeboat  aboard. 
I  remained  in  boat  making  shackles  fast  to  haul 
her  away. 

When  boat  hauled  aboard  I  opened  air-cham- 
ber and  found  the  cat  curled  up  fast  asleep. 
I  took  kitty  out.  You  should  have  seen  her  eyes 
open  at  the  strange  sight.  Started  to  scratch 
and  tear  and  howl  wonderfully,  but  soon  settled 
down  to  a  breakfast  they  brought  her. 

8.  A.M.— All  safe  aboard  the  Trent.  The 
bath  aboard  was  good.  We  had  hardly  washed 
since  last  Friday.  The  breakfast  in  the  passen- 
gers' dining  salaon  was  still  better.  We  scarcely 


366  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

had  a  square  meal  since  we  left  Atlantic  City. 
We  ate  at  any  old  time  and  we  always  had  good 
appetites. 

To  my  delight  and  surprise  I  meet  several  old 
friends  aboard — a  strange,  unexpected  meeting 
here  in  the  center  of  the  broad  Atlantic.  The  of- 
ficers rigged  us  out  in  clothes  and  could  not  do 
enough  for  us.  The  passengers  were  not  less 
kind  and  kept  us  busy  signing  autograph  albums. 

That  night  in  the  smokeroom  of  the  Trent 
will  remain  my  most  pleasant  day  afloat.  We 
exchanged  many  experiences.  Mr.  Wellman's 
record  took  the  biscuit.  Twelve  months  ago  he 
was  up  in  the  Arctic  and  made  a  trip  over  the 
frozen  seas.  This  spring  he  was  up  the  River 
Nile  to  meet  Colonel  Roosevelt,  and  now  in  the 
autumn  of  1910  we  find  Mr.  Wellman  and  his 
crew  being  picked  up  in  mid- Atlantic  from  the 
airship  America.  "If  that's  not  living  a  bit," 
as  he  said,  "I  should  like  to  know  what  is." 

All  of  us  felt  gratified  by  our  novel  trip  and 
all  are  fully  prepared  to  take  part  in  another  at- 
tempt. I  think  I  am  right  in  saying  that  our 
appetites  have  been  whetted  by  this  taste  of  trans- 
atlantic travel  by  the  air  route,  and  we  are  cer- 
>*tain  that  when  we  try  again  with  an  improved 
airship  we  shall  be  successful. 

WEDNESDAY,,  1  p.  M. — Reception  which  we 
aboard  the  Trent  had  from  the  steamers  which 


THE  RESCUE  367 

came  out  to  meet  us,  including  a  special  steam 
launch  engaged  by  The  Daily  Telegraph  and 
The  New  York  Times,  was  particularly  grati- 
fying. 

We  left  Atlantic  City  amid  the  yelping  of 
some  ribald  writers  who  were  disappointed  be- 
cause we  had  been  unable  to  supply  the  visitors 
with  a  few  sensational  trial  trips  along  the  coast. 
We  returned  to  New  York  in  triumph  and  ap- 
parently were  to  be  received  on  land  as  well  as  at 
sea  as  heroes. 

This  reception  has  been  far  beyond  our  deserts, 
but  will  encourage  Mr.  Wellman  and  his  crew 
to  do  better  next  time.  We  are  defeated  in  our 
attempt  to  reach  Europe  but  we  are  not  dis- 
credited. We  have  established  a  record  of  which 
we  are  proud.  We  covered  1,008  miles;  we  were 
in  the  air  72  hours;  we  sacrificed  our  airship  but 
we  saved  our  lives,  and,  above  all,  as  Mr.  Well- 
man and  Mr.  Vaniman  will  show  when  they 
write  their  technical  reports,  we  have  gathered 
a  vast  amount  of  useful  knowledge  which  will 
help  largely  in  the  solution  of  big  problems  re- 
lating to  the  navigation  of  the  air.  And  we 
also  saved  the  cat! 

(Signed)       F.  MURRAY  SIMON. 


CHAPTER  XL VII 

THE    MARCONI    WIRELESS    APPARATUS 

The  first  communication  between  an  airship 
at  sea  and  stations  on  land  was  made  by  the 
America  during  this  voyage.  For  the  mechan- 
ical installation  which  secured  this  great  success 
we  are  indebted  to  the  Marconi  Wireless  Tele- 
graph Company.  The  English  Company  took 
the  initiative  and  furnished  the  apparatus.  The 
American  Company  under  the  direction  of  Vice- 
President  Bottomley,  installed  it,  the  work  being 
skillfully  done  by  Chief  Engineer  F.  M.  Sammis 
and  the  operator,  J.  R.  Irwin. 

In  the  Electrical  World  of  September  8,  1910, 
Mr.  Sammis  thus  described  the  apparatus : 

"The  dirigible  balloon  America,  with  Walter 
Wellman  as  pilot,  that  is  to  attempt  the  re- 
markable feat  of  crossing  the  Atlantic  Ocean 
during  the  month  of  September,  is  being  equipped 
with  a  special  set  of  wireless  telegraph  apparatus 
by  the  Marconi  Wireless  Telegraph  Company. 
In  order  better  to  describe  this  pioneer  wireless 
equipment  of  an  airship,  and  its  method  of  oper- 

368 


W    H 


THE  WIRELESS  APPARATUS     369 

ation,  perhaps  a  few  words  descriptive  of  the 
dirigible  itself  may  be  helpful. 

"The  huge  cigar-shaped  envelope  is  230  feet 
long.  It  has  been  constructed  from  a  specially 
woven  fabric  of  rubber  and  silk,  well  adapted 
for  containing  the  hydrogen  gas  without  leakage. 
Suspended  from  the  gas  bag  by  means  of  rope 
slings  and  steel  guy  wires  is  the  car.  This  car  is 
constructed  entirely  of  steel  tubing,  braced  with 
steel  guy  wires,  and  upon  it  and  the  platform 
which  it  supports  are  mounted  the  main  and 
auxiliary  gasoline  engines, 'the  former  consisting 
of  two  80  horse  power  units  and  the  latter  de- 
veloping 20  horse  power.  These  engines  drive 
the  four  propellers  that  furnish  the  motive  power. 
A  huge  gasoline  tank,  150  feet  long  and  2  feet 
in  diameter,  is  also  supported  by  the  main  car 
body.  Suspended  directly  underneath  the  steel 
car  is  an  indestructible  and  unsinkable  lifeboat. 
In  a  locker  in  the  forward  end  of  this  little  craft 
is  located  the  wireless  equipment. 

"Attached  to  the  underneath  side  of  the  steel 
car,  but  insulated  from  it  by  special  rope  in- 
sulators, is  the  steel  drag  rope.  The  device, 
while  common  to  the  ordinary  balloon,  has  a 
unique  feature  worth  mentioning.  It  will,  of 
course,  be  understood  that  the  function  of  this 
drag  rope  is  to  equalize  the  variation  in  lifting 
power  of  the  hydrogen  gas,  owing  to  the  expan- 


370  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

sion  and  contraction  due  to  heat  and  cold.  In 
order  to  combine  a  large  amount  of  equalizing 
weight  with  increased  storage  capacity  for  gas- 
oline, a  number  of  special  steel  tanks  have  been 
constructed,  each  having  a  capacity  of  about  one 
barrel.  These  tanks  are  made  with  hollow  cen- 
ters so  that  they  may  be  slipped  over  the  steel 
drag  rope,  one  above  the  other ;  thus  they  can  be 
drawn  up  into  the  car  and  their  contents  used 
should  occasion  require. 

"In  designing  the  special  wireless  telegraph 
equipment  for  the  America  two  requirements 
were  of  great  importance ;  first,  minimum  weight, 
and  second,  freedom  from  danger  in  operation. 
In  consequence  of  the  importance  of  these  con- 
siderations the  set  was  constructed  with  an  ex- 
ceptionally loose  coupling,  and  operates  on  en- 
ergy furnished  by  a  small  storage  battery  which 
in  turn  is  charged  with  a  miniature  gasoline  en- 
gine generating  set  used  for  lighting.  This  little 
generating  set  is  a  model  of  compactness. 

"The  ground  end  of  the  secondary  winding  of 
the  oscillation  transformer  is  connected  to  the 
steel  cable  or  drag  rope,  the  aerial  end  being 
connected  to  the  steel  body  of  the  car. 

"In  arranging  the  coupling  of  the  trans- 
mitter it  was  necessary  to  give  careful  attention 
to  the  fact  that  the  steel  drag  rope  which  forms 
part  of  the  oscillating  circuit,  would  be  contin- 


THE  WIRELESS  APPARATUS     371 

ually  varying  in  length,  dependent  upon  the  lift- 
ing power  of  the  hydrogen  gas,  thus  causing  a 
corresponding  variation  in  its  natural  periodic- 
ity. A  very  loose  coupling  was  finally  deter- 
mined upon  in  order  to  nullify  as  far  as  possible 
the  effect  of  the  open  circuit  upon  the  closed. 
The  actual  power  used  is  approximately  250 
watts,  a  standard  Marconi  10-inch  induction  coil 
being  used  to  charge  the  condenser.  With  this 
small  amount  of  power  the  danger  of  trouble- 
some sparking  is  negligible,  while  actual  tests 
with  this  set  demonstrated  the  practicability  of 
working  from  50  to  75  miles  without  difficulty." 
It  is  proper  for  me  to  add  that  in  view  of 
the  great  success  of  this  experiment,  it  is  clear 
that  future  airships  may  be  fitted  with  much 
more  powerful  wireless  apparatus,  able  to  main- 
tain communication  through  several  hundred 
miles.  The  Marconi  Company  did  not  feel  like 
assuming  the  responsibility,  in  this  first  experi- 
ment, of  introducing  an  intensity  of  electric 
power  which  might  produce  dangerous  spark- 
ing, and  we  also  felt  it  better  to  be  on  the  safe 
side.  But  we  now  know  that  much  more  pow- 
erful apparatus  may  be  prudently  employed,  and 
this  is  one  of  the  many  valuable  lessons  learned 
by  our  voyage. 


CHAPTER  XL VIII 

JACK  IRWIN^S  WIRELESS  LOG 

[From  the  New  York  Times.] 

Jack  Irwin,  the  young  wireless  operator  of 
Wellman's  airship  America,  which  sailed  1,008 
miles  in  its  attempt  to  reach  Europe  under  the 
auspices  of  The  New  York  Times,  The  Lon- 
don Daily  Telegraph,  and  The  Chicago  Record- 
Herald,  is  treasuring  as  his  curio  of  the  eventful 
attempt  to  cross  the  Atlantic  some  eight  pages 
of  dingy  paper,  scribbled  over  with  lead  pencil, 
that  is  already  beginning  to  blur. 

These  bits  of  paper  make  up  his  diary  of  the 
voyage.  They  were  kept  with  the  wireless  in- 
struments, where  he  could  jot  down  a  running 
story  of  his  experiences  from  the  operator's  point 
of  view,  and  as  a  formal  record  a  carbon  copy 
has  been  handed  to  the  Marconi  Wireless  Tele- 
graph Company  of  America.  It  is  the  operator's 
report  to  his  office  of  the  voyage  of  the  first  air 
craft  ever  equipped  with  a  wireless  outfit. 

The  diary  is  written  in  the  lingo  of  his  pro- 
fession, and  Irwin  took  it  all  in  a  very  business- 
like and  unemotional  manner.  Only  once  or 

372 


JACK  IRWIN'S  WIRELESS  LOG     373 

twice  did  he  allow  his  feelings  to  creep  in  and 
disturb  the  regularity  of  his  record. 

"Sensation  very  fine.  All  happy,"  he  wrote 
in  the  early  afternoon  of  his  first  day  out  from 
Atlantic  City. 

"It's  all  up,"  was  his  brief  comment  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  afternoon  when  the  gale  struck  the 
America,  and  it  looked  as  though  they  must 
take  to  the  lifeboat  immediately.  And  later,  in 
noting  down  the  events  of  the  early  morning  on 
which  the  Trent  picked  them  up,  he  wrote : 

"Unable  to  reach  Cape  Cod,  but  heard  him 
working.  It  sounded  very  much  like  home." 

Irwin's  great  trouble  came  from  the  lack  of 
power  in  his  sending  apparatus.  Much  of  the 
time  he  could  hear,  but  he  could  not  make  him- 
self heard.  He  would  get  the  messages  dis- 
tinctly from  the  land  stations,  but  there  was  not 
enough  voltage  at  his  command  for  him  to  be  able 
to  answer. 

"We  were  in  touch  with  the  Siasconset  Sta- 
tion until  about  1  P.  M.  Sunday,  when  I  sent  the 
message  that  all  was  well  and  we  were  running 
northeast,"  he  writes  in  his  own  account  of  the 
trip.  "On  account  of  the  low  power  of  the 
sender  I  was  not  able  to  raise  Siasconset  after 
Sunday  noon,  but  I  picked  up  messages  from 
Siasconset  Monday.  We  received  several  mes- 
sages for  Mr.  Wellman  but  I  could  not  tell  Si- 


374  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

asconset  that  we  had  them.  I  got  them  very 
distinctly,  and  could  also  hear  Siasconset  calling 
various  steamships  and  asking  for  news  of  the 
America. 

"It  was  rather  funny,"  he  said  in  a  laconic 
mood,  after  it  was  all  over,  "sitting  in  the  life- 
boat under  the  balloon  and  hearing  inquiries  be- 
ing made  for  us  and  not  being  able  to  answer." 

But  at  other  times  his  account  of  these  hours, 
when  the  land  stations  and  ships  were  sweeping 
the  seas  for  the  America,  suggests  that  it  was 
anything  but  "funny."  Rather  was  it  like  some 
dreadful  nightmare,  such  as  sometimes  besets  a 
man,  filling  him  with  a  great  helplessness  when  he 
strains  and  strains  to  speak  and  cannot  utter  a 
sound,  when  shouts  and  calls  reach  his  distorted 
senses  and  he  cannot  speak  so  much  as  a  single 
word.  So  it  seemed  to  Irwin,  sitting  beside  his 
receiving  instrument  in  the  little  lifeboat,  hear- 
ing Cape  Sable  and  Sable  Island  asking  for 
news  of  the  dirigible  and  himself  unable  to  call 
for  help  or  give  any  hint  of  the  Americas  where- 
abouts. 

That  was  the  fate  which  met  a  message  to  Mr. 
Wellman  from  The  New  York  Times  con- 
gratulating him  on  his  success  that  far,  and  send- 
ing him  the  news  from  Washington  as  to  the 
weather  probabilities.  The  message  went  from 
New  York  to  the  Nova  Scotia  coast,  whence  it 


JACK  IRWIN'S  WIRELESS  LOG     375 

was  sent  out  to  Sable  Island  with  instructions 
that  the  station  there  should  pass  it  on  to  the 
America.  Sable  Island  reported  back  that  all 
efforts  to  get  into  communication  with  the  air- 
craft had  been  unsuccessful  and  that  the  message 
would  go  undelivered. 

Yet  that  very  message  had  been  carefully 
copied  by  Irwin  and  handed  to  Mr.  Well- 
man.  He  had  picked  it  up  as  it  left  the  Nova 
Scotia  coast  for  Sable  Island.  It  is  duly  noted 
in  his  diary  for  Oct.  17. 

"Now  hear  Cape  Sable  sending  a  message  to 
some  ship.  It  is  from  The  New  York  Times 
and  is  about  the  weather." 

Irwin  tried  to  send  his  messages  in  the  secret 
code  arranged  with  The  Times,  which  would  re- 
veal their  contents  only  to  the  initiated  in  The 
Times  office.  So  unfamiliar  were  the  words  he 
had  to  send  that  the  receiving  operators  kept 
thinking  they  must  have  heard  incorrectly,  so 
that  they  interrupted  again  and  again,  asking  for 
a  repetition,  and  so  exhausting  his  precious  volt- 
age that  he  was  obliged  to  abandon  the  code  al- 
together. 

Irwin's  regular  diary  was  cut  short  with  the 
darkness  on  Monday  evening,  when  he  wrote : 

"Hear  wireless  stations  working  from  Cape 
Sable  to  the  Southern  States." 


376  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

He  did  not  write  again  till  he  was  on  board 
the  rescuing  Trent,  filling  out  the  back  hours 
from  memory  and  with  the  aid  of  the  notes  taken 
by  the  Trent's  operator.  As  the  rapid-fire  con- 
versation between  the  Trent  and  the  America  be- 
gan, Irwin  did  not  stop  to  copy  them,  merely 
reading  aloud  the  messages  from  the  Trent  as 
they  reached  his  receiving  instrument. 

The  diary  is  the  last  word  in  abbreviation. 
Here  is  a  sample : 

"11  A.  M. — Msc  wkg  msk  gives  him  our  'All 
Well'  &  Sk  gives  it  to  Ax.  Sc  &  Sk  ex  sgs  re 
'W.'  " 

All  of  which  means : 

"Siasconset  working  Sagapontag.  Gives  him 
our  'All  Well'  and  Sagapontag  gives  it  to  Atlan- 
tic City.  Siasconset  and  Sagapontag  exchange 
signals  about  the  America/' 

Here  is  the  diary  translated  in  full: 

Marconi  Wireless  Telegraph  Company  of  Amer- 
ica.    Airship  America  Station. 

Oct.  15.  1910. 

8 :05  A.  M. — Leave  Atlantic  City. 

9 :30  A.  M. — Unable  to  do  anything  until  they 

fix  the  equilibrator. 

10  A.  M. — Tuning  up.     Call  Atlantic  City  and 

all  stations.     Nothing  doing.     Hear  steamship 


JACK  IRWIN'S  WIRELESS  LOG     377 

Cleveland,  steamship  Philadelphia,  and  Saga- 
ponack,  L.  I.  An  Italian  ship  is  calling  Saga- 
ponack.  Steamship  Philadelphia  is  working  with 
Seagate.  Jamming  bad. 

10:30  A.  M. — In  communication  with  Atlantic 
City. 

11:05  A.  M. — Send  eight  messages  to  Atlantic 
City. 

12:25  p.  M. — Received  two  messages  from  At- 
lantic City. 

1 :30  p.  M. — Received  one  message  and  sent  two 
more  to  Atlantic  City.  Everything  going  fine. 
Sensation  very  fine.  All  happy. 

2:10  P.M. — Received  two  messages  from  At- 
lantic City  regarding  the  weather. 

2 :45  p.  M. — Signaled  Atlantic  City.  Nothing 
doing.  Dynamo  not  working.  Now  going  easy 
on  batteries,  as  we  are  unable  to  say  whether  the 
dynamos  will  be  put  in  order. 

3 :30  P.  M. — Received  one  message  from  Atlan- 
tic City  from  The  London  Daily  Telegraph  man 
while  the  motor  stopped.  Tried  to  get  reply  off, 
but  Atlantic  City  jammed  continually.  Motors 
now  started.  Am  unable  to  say  whether  Atlan- 
tic City  got  it,  as  it  is  impossible  to  hear  any  sig- 
nals while  the  engines  are  running. 

8  p.  M. — Nothing  doing.  Unable  to  hear,  ow- 
ing to  the  engines  running.  Have  passed  one 


378  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

steamer  and  two  sailing  ships.     The  last  sailer 
was  within  fifty  yards  of  us. 

Oct.  16. 

5 :05  A.  M. — Hear  Siasconset  working  ships. 
Also  heard  the  S.  S.  Caledonia  calling  Seagate 
and  the  S.  S.  Arabic  calling  S.  S.  Canopic.  The 
navy  station  at  Brooklyn  is  calling  me.  En- 
gines now  stopped.  Call  all  stations.  Nothing 
doing.  Dense  fog  throughout  the  night. 

7:30  A.  M. — Hear  Sagaponack  and  Siasconset 
working.  Sagaponack  tells  Siasconset  that  we 
were  sixty  miles  southeast  of  Scotland  Light  Ves- 
sel at  6:50  p.  M.  last  night.  That  was  when  we 
passed  that  steamer. 

8  A.  M. — Siasconset  now  strong,  but  there  is  no 
answer  to  my  repeated  calls.  S.  S.  La  Gascogne 
calling  Siasconset. 

8:10  A.  M. — Newport  tells  Nantucket  that  we 
started  yesterday  and  to  report  any  news  of  us. 

9 :45  A.  M. — Unable  to  raise  Siasconset,  who  is 
now  strong. 

10:35  A.  M. — Send  two  messages  to  Siasconset. 

11  A.  M. — Siasconset  working  Sagaponack. 
Gives  him  "All  well,"  and  Sagapontag  gives  it  to 
Atlantic  City.  Siasconset  and  Sagapontag  ex- 
change signals  about  the  America. 

Noon. — Heard  Cape  Sable  call  stations. 

2 :30  P.  M. — Messages  to  Siasconset. 

4 :45  p.  M. — It's  all  up.     Arranging  to  take 


JACK  IRWIN'S  WIRELESS  LOG     379 

boat.     Serious  problem.     Calling  C.  Q.  D.     S. 
S.  Main  seems  strong. 

Oct.  17 

7  A.  M. — All  ready  during  the  night  to  leave 
in  the  boat,  but  the  breeze  was  too  strong  for 
launching.     Listened  in  and  got  S.  S.  Main  very 
strong.     Now  hear  Cape  Sable  sending  a  mes- 
sage to  some  ship  for  us.     Copy  it.     It  is  from 
The  New  York  Times  and  is  about  the  weather. 

7:10  A.M. — Hear  Cape  Cod  giving  signals; 
Calling  Siasconset  with  message. 

7:20  A.M. — Navigator  just  got  a  sight  for 
longitude.  We  are  210  miles  east  of  Nantucket 
(approximately).  Longitude  65.51  west.  Hear 
Siasconset  and  Cape  Cod.  Heard  Cape  Cod 
send  a  message  to  us  from  Hampton  s  Magazine, 
but  only  got  last  three  words,  as  tail  keeps  coming 
out  of  the  water.  [This  means  the  tail  of  the 
equilibrator,  the  cable  of  which  was  the  "ground" 
connection  of  the  wireless  apparatus.] 

8  A.  M. — Drifting  due  southwest. 

9  A.  M. — Went  up  2,600  feet,  now  down  again. 
This  is  the  second  time  this  morning  we  have  been 
in  the  clouds. 

9 :20  A.  M. — Hear  Cape  Cod  and  Siasconset 
talking  and  working.  Siasconset  gives  S.  S. 
Ryndam  "Go  ahead  with  communication." 

1  p.  M. — Nothing  doing.  Have  slept  and 
eaten. 


380  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

2 :40  P.  M. — Still  drifting  along.  Getting 
ready  to  make  a  getaway  in  the  boat.  The  ques- 
tion of  launching  has  been  discussed  for  hours. 
The  danger  lies  in  the  tail  hitting  the  boat  when 
we  are  launched. 

2:45  P.M. — Hear  Xew  York  calling  a  Ber- 
muda line  vessel.  Weak. 

3:10  P.  M. — Siasconset  sounds  strong.  A  Pan- 
ama Line  ship  calls  Atlantic  City.  Very  weak. 

3:11  P.M. — Siasconset  gives  S.  S.  Main  "Go 
ahead."  Then  calls  S.  S.  Kronprinz  Wilhelm. 
Kronprinz  Wilhelm  calling  the  America. 

7  P.  M. — Hear  wireless  stations  working  from 
Cape  Sable  to  the  Southern  States. 

Oct.  18. — Notes  made  after  arrival  on  board  S. 
S.  Trent.  Made  from  memory  and  the  notes  of 
the  Trent's  operator. 

Remained  on  watch  until  3  A.  M.  listening  to 
various  wireless  stations  working.  Static  re- 
sistance very  bad.  Unable  to  read  Cape  Cod, 
but  heard  him  working.  It  sounded  very  much 
like  home.  I  turned  in  at  3  A.  M.  and  was  awak- 
ened about  an  hour  later  by  calls  of  a  ship  in 
sight. 

Descended  into  the  lifeboat  and  called  C.  Q. 
D.  Nothing  doing.  Then  got  small  electric 
torch  and  commenced  calling  in  Morse  lamp 
fashion.  Was  eventually  answered  by  the  Trent 
and  signaled  him  that  we  were  in  trouble  and 


JACK  IRWIN'S  WIRELESS  LOG     381 

required  help.     Also  convey  to  him  that  we  were 
equipped  with  wireless. 

The  Trent's  operator  was  awakened,  and  he 
called,  and  as  I  had  my  fones  on  all  the  time,  I 
answered  him,  and  instant  communication  was 
established.  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Ginsberg  for 
the  copies  of  the  following  messages  which  were 
copied  by  him.  I  did  not  do  so,  merely  reading 
out  his  messages  to  Mr.  Wellman  as  he  sent 
them. 

To  the  America — Do  you  want  our  assistance? 

To  the  Trent — Yes.  Come  at  once.  In  dis- 
tress. We  are  drifting.  Not  under  control. 

To  the  America — What  do  you  want  us  to  do? 

To  the  Trent — Come  ahead  full  speed,  but 
keep  astern,  as  we  have  heavy  tail  dragging. 

To  the  America — O.  K.  Am  standing  by  the 
wireless  in  case  of  trouble. 

To  the  Trent — You  will  pick  us  up  at  day- 
light. You  will  be  better  able  to  see  us  then. 

To  the  America — O.  K. 

To  the  Trent — Come  in  close  and  put  the  bow 
of  your  ship  under  us.  We  will  drop  you  a  line, 
but  do  not  stop  your  ship,  as  you  will  capsize  us. 

To  the  America — O.  K. 

To  the  Trent — Who  are  you  and  where  bound? 

To  the  America — S.  S.  Trent,  bound  for  New 
York. 

To  the  Trent — Have  one  of  your  boats  ready 


382  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

to  launch,  as  we  will  probably  capsize  when  we 
launch. 

To  the  America — O.  K.      Boat  manned. 

To  the  America — Shall  we  stop  for  you? 

To  the  Trent — Yes;  we  are  getting  ready  to 
launch. 

To  the  America — Shall  we  stop  for  you? 

To  the  Trent — Don't  stop ;  we  will  drop  you  a 
sea  anchor  and  try  to  stop  our  ship. 

To  the  Trent — We  have  a  motor  going  above. 
We  can't  hear  your  signals  now.  Will  say  when 
I  can.  We  are  pumping  air  into  the  airship 
ready  to  bring  her  down  to  the  level. 

To  the  America — We  are  going  full  speed 
waiting  for  your  orders. 

To  the  Trent — We  are  going  to  launch  the 
boat.  Stand  by  to  pick  us  up.  (Wireless  then 
closed. ) 

I  then  cut  aerial  and  earth  wires,  put  water- 
tight doors  on  the  openings  of  the  wireless  cup- 
board, and  stood  by.  The  boat  was  successfully 
launched,  a  most  dangerous  operation.  We 
were  going  fifteen  knots  an  hour,  with  the  boat 
swinging  beam  on  to  the  sea,  and  behind  the  ton 
and  a  half  trailer,  composed  of  heavy  tanks  of 
gasoline. 

At  the  signal  "Let  go"  both  clutches  holding 
the  boat  were  jerked.  They  acted  beautifully. 
The  boat  fell  into  the  water,  lurched  gunwale  un- 


JACK  IRWIN'S  WIRELESS  LOG     383 

der,  then  righted.  The  equilibrator  hit  Mr. 
Loud,  the  first  assistant  engineer  and  myself,  and 
stove  a  small  hole  in  the  wireless  compartment  of 
the  boat,  but  it  did  not  injure  either  of  us  nor 
impair  the  stability  of  our  boat. 

The  greatest  danger  of  the  whole  eventful 
three  days  now  occurred.  The  Trent  was  follow- 
ing full  speed,  right  in  our  wake,  and  she  bore 
right  down  on  our  lifeboat  for  a  few  seconds, 
which  seemed  hours.  It  appeared  we  were  to  be 
cut  in  two.  I  prepared  to  jump  overboard  and 
swim  clear  of  the  propellers  of  the  big  ship,  but 
fortunately  at  the  instant  I  thought  to  do  so,  the 
Trent  cleared  us  and  we  grazed  along  her  side. 

After  two  or  three  attempts  to  row  to  the  ship 
with  two  small  oars  we  waited,  wallowing  in  a 
heavy  sea,  for  the  ship  to  come  about.  This  she 
did  and  ranged  at  slow  speed  alongside  us. 
Lines  were  thrown,  but  although  we  tried  to  hang 
on,  the  speed  was  too  great  for  us,  and  again  we 
were  left  astern.  Once  more  this  maneuver 
was  executed,  and  we  got  near  enough  to  the 
ship  to  catch  a  line.  We  came  alongside  and 
climbed  aboard  by  a  rope  ladder.  All  wireless 
gear  saved. 

J.  R.  IRWIN,  Operator. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

THE  FUTURE  OF  AERIAL  NAVIGATION 

We  may  now  say  with  truth  that  man  has  at 
iast  realized  his  centuries-old  aspiration.  He 
has  conquered  the  air.  He  has  successfully  nav- 
igated the  ocean  of  atmosphere  which  surrounds 
our  earth.  With  persistence,  ingenuity,  courage, 
sacrifice,  heroism,  devotion,  loss  of  life  and  for- 
tune, man  has  kept  at  his  task,  advancing  little  by 
little,  step  by  step,  toward  the  ultimate  triumph. 

To-day  the  greatest  fact  in  the  progress  of 
mankind  toward  the  full  realization  of  his  me- 
chanical possibilities  is  this:  Man  flies;  man 
soars  in  the  air;  he  converts  himself  into  a  great 
bird;  he  spreads  his  wings,  sets  in  motion  his 
motor-muscles,  rises  from  the  earth,  sets  out  de- 
termined to  reach  a  given  destination  a  long  ways 
off,  flies  straight  toward  it,  reaches  it,  descends. 
This  is  aerial  navigation;  it  is  conquest  of  the 
air.  It  is  one  of  man's  most  wonderful  achieve- 
ments. And  in  my  opinion  the  triumph  of  it  in 
nowise  depends  upon  man's  ability  to  make  gen- 
eral commercial  application  of  his  new-found  art, 
his  latest  victory  over  the  elements. 

384 


CONQUERING  THE  AIR         385 

And  yet  the  question  is  everywhere  asked: 
Now  that  man  has  achieved  aerial  navigation,  how 
much  practical  use  is  he  going  to  be  able  to  make 
of  it  in  the  world's  work?  No  other  question  is 
to-day  more  discussed  throughout  Christendom. 
No  other  rouses  more  curiosity  or  develops  wider 
range  of  opinion.  We  may  say,  looking  at  the 
matter  broadly,  that  the  foremost  engineering  and 
mechanical  problem  of  to-day  is :  Can  aerial  nav- 
igation be  commercialized?  If  so,  how,  by  what 
method,  with  which  type  of  machine? 

It  is  my  purpose  to  attempt  an  answer  to  this 
question  in  these  pages.  If  the  answer  cannot 
be  made  as  complete  and  definite  as  we  should 
like,  we  may  still  be  able  to  throw  valuable  light 
upon  the  subject. 

First,  to  clear  away  all  doubts,  let  me  state  my 
firm  belief  that  aerial  navigation  is  as  yet  in  an 
experimental  stage.  We  are  virtually  in  the  in- 
fancy of  the  art.  We  have  only  begun  to  demon- 
strate its  possibilities.  It  is  only  within  the  past 
four  or  five  years  that  the  motor-balloon  has  been 
developed  into  a  practical  and  fairly  dependable 
instrument  of  air  travel.  It  is  only  within  the 
past  three  years  that  mechanical  flight  has  been 
demonstrated  in  such  practical  fashion  and  upon 
such  a  scale  as  to  convince  the  world  that  aerial 
travel  is  here  at  last. 

The  ingenuity,  skill  and  courage  that  can  ac- 


386  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

complish  all  this  in  such  a  short  time  must  be 
regarded  as  the  forerunner  of  much  greater 
things  to  come.  At  the  present  moment  the  pre- 
cise method  of  attaining  the  vastly  larger  and 
more  important  results  may  not  be  in  sight.  We 
cannot  say  that  it  is.  Moreover,  so  far  as  any 
existing  type  of  machine  is  concerned,  certain  lim- 
itations of  the  art  of  aerial  navigation,  set  by 
physical  conditions,  may  be  regarded  as  interpos- 
ing almost  if  not  quite  insuperable  obstacles  to 
further  important  development — development 
which  would  carry  the  art  to  the  general  com- 
mercial application  so  much  discussed  and  de- 
sired. 

While  it  is  true  that  these  limitations  are  sharp 
and  apparently  insuperable,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered we  are  considering  them  only  as  they  apply 
to  present  types  of  machines,  both  lighter  and 
heavier  than  air.  There  is  every  reason  to  hope 
that  new  types  are  to  be  developed  which  will 
rise  superior  to  the  limitations.  All  over  the 
world  men  are  studying  aerial  navigation.  They 
are  experimenting  with  new  apparatus,  building, 
testing,  tearing  down,  reconstructing,  keeping  at 
it.  Perhaps  it  is  safe  to  say  that  throughout  the 
world  fifty  thousand  men  are  to-day  giving  all 
or  most  of  their  time  and  energies  to  this  fasci- 
nating problem.  Many  of  these,  it  is  true,  are 
mere  mechanics,  whose  point  of  view  is  restricted 


CONQUERING  THE  AIR         387 

largely  to  details  and  to  experiments  therewith. 
From  such  workers  as  these  improvement  of  the 
existing  types  of  machines  may  be  expected,  per- 
haps nothing  revolutionary,  but  a  gradual  prog- 
ress toward  perfection. 

Not  only  mechanics,  but  men  of  science  and 
engineering  are  at  work  upon  the  problem — men 
who  take  the  broad  view,  who  study  everything 
from  the  beginning,  who  take  into  consideration 
all  the  laws  of  physics  and  aerodynamics  in- 
volved, and  who  seek,  not  mere  perfection  of 
details  or  improvement  of  present  types,  but  the 
creation  of  new  types  which  shall  revolutionize 
the  art  and  bring  about  another  epoch  in  air 
travel.  The  Lilienthals,  the  Langleys,  the 
Wrights,  the  Julliots,  the  Zeppelins,  the  Cha- 
nutes,  the  Montgomerys,  the  Bleriots,  the  Santos- 
Dumonts,  are  not  all  dead,  nor  all  inactive  or 
worked  out,  nor  giving  their  energies  to  the  com- 
mercialization of  the  sporting  and  gate-taking 
aspects  of  the  art  to  the  neglect  of  its  future. 

Men  of  this  class  are  of  every  country,  every 
nationality.  They  are  delving  deep.  I  pin  my 
faith  to  them.  From  one  of  them  may  come  at 
any  moment  an  invention,  a  discovery,  or  a  com- 
bination, which  will  revolutionize  the  art;  some- 
thing that  will  go  so  far  beyond  a  Zeppelin,  a 
Lebaudy  or  an  America,  so  far  beyond  the  per- 
formances of  the  mechanical  flight  machines  of 


388  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

to-day,  that  people  will  be  wondering  how  they 
could  ever  have  given  so  much  attention  and 
admiration  to  the  crude  contrivances  of  1910. 

My  faith  is  strong  that  having  demonstrated 
the  practicability  of  air  travel  man  will  go  on  till 
he  has  developed  flight  into  a  state  of  perfection 
and  usefulness  not  even  indicated  by  the  appa- 
ratus of  to-day. 

Whether  or  not  full  commercial  utilization  of 
aerial  navigation  is  coming,  soon  or  late,  is  a  ques- 
tion which  no  one  can  now  adequately  or  confi- 
dently answer.  It  may  come,  it  may  not.  My 
own  impression,  rather  than  conviction,  is  that 
in  the  next  half  century  we  shall  have  limited 
rather  than  universal  commercial  application  of 
the  art.  But  within  those  limitations  will  be 
found  much  that  is  highly  beneficial  to  humanity. 


CHAPTER  L 

POSSIBILITIES  OF  THE  MOTOR-BALLOON 

As  is  well  known,  the  art  of  aerial  naviga- 
tion is  practised  with  two  types  of  machines — 
the  dirigible  or  motor-balloon,  and  the  mechan- 
ical flight  apparatus,  generally  known  as  the 
aeroplane.  The  differences  between  the  two 
types  are  obvious.  A  motor-balloon  gains  its 
power  to  rise  in  the  air  and  to  lift  not  only  itself 
but  a  considerable  cargo  of  motors,  crew,  fuel, 
etc.,  by  means  of  the  buoyant  force  of  hydro- 
gen, which  is  simply  the  difference  between  the 
weight  of  the  air  displaced  and  the  lighter  hy- 
drogen gas  substituted  for  it  within  the  balloon 
or  reservoir.  Once  in  the  air,  the  motor-balloon 
is  driven  forward  by  propellers  operated  by  en- 
gines, usually  of  the  inner-explosion  type,  burn- 
ing gasoline  for  fuel. 

The  mechanical  flight  machine,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  no  buoyant  force  of  its  own.  No  hy- 
drogen or  other  gas  is  used.  The  machine  is 
lifted  in  the  air  by  the  push  of  its  wings  or 
surfaces  against  the  air  as  it  is  driven  rapidly 
forward  by  its  propellers  worked  by  motors. 

389 


390  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  motor-balloon,  having  inherent  buoyancy, 
remains  in  the  air  regardless  of  whether  its  en- 
gines and  propellers  are  working  or  not.  The 
mechanical  flight  machine  is  maintained  in  the 
air  solely  by  the  push  exerted  by  its  propellers, 
and  if  these  stop  working  it  must  descend  to  the 
earth,  though  instead  of  falling  vertically  it 
glides  downward,  still  pushing  against  the  air 
by  virtue  of  the  momentum  of  its  descent,  just 
as  like  forces  kept  it  aloft  whilst  the  motors  and 
propellers  were  in  operation. 

It  is  possible  to  build  a  motor-balloon  de- 
signed to  carry  a  limited  number  of  passen- 
gers across  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  at  high  speed, 
and  with  complete  immunity  from  seasickness. 
But  if  such  ships  are  employed  regularly  for  this 
purpose,  and  the  venture  be  conducted  on  purely 
commercial  lines,  the  passengers  must  pay  high 
fares  for  their  speedy  and  comfortable  voyages, 
else  the  enterprise  could  not  earn  profits. 

Later  I  shall  give  the  outlines  of  an  airship 
which,  in  my  opinion,  could  cross  the  ocean  from 
America  to  Europe,  or  vice  versa,  at  high  speed, 
and  with  a  minimum  of  risk  to  the  ship  itself  or 
its  passengers,  though  I  am  not  prepared  to  go 
so  far  as  to  say  such  a  venture  could  be  made 
commercially  profitable,  or  that  the  risk  involved 
would  be  as  small  as  that  which  one  incurs  when 
he  entrusts  his  life  to  a  great  modern  transat- 


AIRSHIP  POSSIBILITIES        391 

lantic  liner.  Hence  it  is  not  for  me  to  predict 
that  airships  of  this  type  will  ever  supplant  or 
seriously  compete  with  steamships.  But  it  is 
not  at  all  improbable,  certainly  not  impossible, 
that  in  time  we  shall  have  a  special  aerial  trans- 
atlantic service  for  the  accommodation  of  a  small 
share  of  the  swarms  of  transocean  travelers. 

Other  possibilities  of  the  motor-balloon  are  in 
war  and  exploration.  As  to  the  value  of  the 
airship  in  war  I  shall  write  a  special  chapter. 
As  to  its  use  in  exploration,  if  there  remains  a 
part  of  the  earth's  surface  worth  exploration, 
and  the  difficulty  of  doing  that  by  the  ordinary 
means  of  travel  is  so  great  as  to  involve  prac- 
tical difficulties,  the  motor-balloon  is  available 
for  the  purpose.  For  example,  if  it  were  con- 
sidered worth  while  for  anyone  to  endeavor  to 
revisit  the  North  Pole  since  its  discovery  by 
Peary,  a  motor-balloon  would  serve  very  well 
as  the  vehicle  of  travel.  If  Peary  had  not 
reached  the  Pole  when  he  did  it  is  highly  prob- 
able, almost  certain,  that  an  airship  would  have 
performed  the  feat  in  a  year  or  two. 

It  may  be  that  there  are  other  parts  of  the 
Arctic  regions,  or  of  the  Antarctic,  or  of  Aus- 
tralia or  Africa,  now  unknown,  and  in  the  ex- 
ploration of  which  a  motor-balloon  could  be 
used  to  advantage.  Prof.  Hergesell,  of  Berlin, 
of  whom  I  spoke  in  connection  with  his  valu- 


392  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

able  exploration  of  the  upper  air  by  means  of 
ballons  sonde,  has  indeed  brought  forward  a 
project  to  attempt  such  exploration  in  the  Arc- 
tics by  means  of  an  airship  of  the  Zeppelin  type, 
and  he  further  imitates  our  recent  enterprise  by 
considering  Spitzbergen  as  a  base  of  operations. 
It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  use  of  a 
motor-balloon  in  the  work  of  exploration  does 
not  necessarily  mean  that  the  ship  of  the  air  must 
be  depended  upon  to  make  the  round  trip,  car- 
rying the  expeditionary  party  both  into  and 
out  of  the  region  to  be  explored.  One  of  the 
best  features  of  the  use  of  airships  of  large  lift- 
ing capacity  in  such  work  as  this  is  found  in 
their  ability  to  carry  not  only  the  explorers  but 
their  instruments,  provisions,  accouterments  of 
all  sorts,  to  the  extent  of  several  tons,  over  a 
great  distance  and  regardless  of  the  difficulty 
of  the  road  considered  for  surface  travel,  in  a 
short  space  of  time.  If  it  then  becomes  nec- 
essary to  abandon  the  airship  and  finish  the 
work  of  exploration  by  travel  on  foot,  employ- 
ing dogs  or  ponies  or  horses  as  draft  animals, 
or  perhaps  motor  sledges  or  motor-traction  ve- 
hicles, according  to  the  characteristics  of  the 
region,  all  these  may  be  carried  far  within  the 
unknown  country,  along  with  ample  supplies, 
and  wherever  the  airship  is  caused  to  descend  a 
great  depot  may  be  established  as  a  base  of  fur- 


AIRSHIP  POSSIBILITIES        393 

ther  activities  on  the  part  of  the  expeditionary 
party. 

In  the  autumn  of  1909  I  worked  out  such 
a  plan  for  an  expedition  to  the  South  Pole,  and 
came  very  near  embarking  in  the  enterprise, 
desisting  only  because  of  certain  physical  and 
meteorological  difficulties  which  were  found  in 
the  way.  The  Arctic  and  Antarctic  regions  are 
not  at  all  similar.  In  the  far  north  we  have  an 
ocean  covered  with  a  sheet  of  ice,  more  or  less 
broken  up,  rarely  still,  and  its  surface  quite 
rough.  The  winds  are  not  very  strong,  and  are 
exceedingly  variable  in  direction.  The  cold  is 
not  an  obstacle  to  the  employment  of  an  airship, 
the  summer  temperature  closely  approximating 
the  freezing  point  in  the  shade. 

But  in  the  Antarctic  regions  conditions  are 
quite  dissimilar.  There  is  found  a  great  con- 
tinent, presumably  millions  of  miles  in  area. 
This  continent  is  glaciated,  like  Greenland  and 
other  Arctic  lands.  That  is,  it  is  covered  by 
huge  masses  of  eternal  ice,  the  mountains  being 
sheathed  with  it  and  the  valleys  filled  with  gla- 
ciers. The  cold  is  greater  in  the  Antarctic  than 
in  the  Arctic,  on  account  of  the  presence  of  this 
great  glaciated  continent,  and  the  altitude  above 
the  sea.  The  South  Pole,  we  know  from  Shack- 
leton's  admirable  journey,  is  situated  upon  a 
great  ice-plateau  eight  to  ten  thousand  feet  above 


394  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  level  of  the  sea.  To  reach  the  South  Pole  by 
sledging  is  not  anywhere  near  as  difficult  as  was 
the  attainment  of  the  North  Pole  by  the  same 
means. 

Travel  over  the  Arctic  Sea  ice  is  practicable 
only  during  a  limited  period  each  year — 110  to 
125  days  in  the  spring,  after  the  sun  has  returned 
and  before  the  summer's  warmth  comes  on. 
Travel  over  the  Antarctic  continent  is  prac- 
ticable at  all  times  of  the  year,  except  only  in 
the  dark  period,  this  being  so  because  the  surface 
is  solid  and  does  not  break  up  and  become  virtu- 
ally impassable  for  a  sledging  party  during  the 
summer  months,  as  is  the  case  in  the  far  north. 
In  fact,  the  summer  is  the  best  season  for  travel 
in  the  Antarctics  and  this  doubles  the  period  dur- 
ing which  an  expedition  may  work  away  from  its 
base — from  say  110  or  120  days  in  the  Arctics 
to  230  or  240  days  in  the  Antarctics. 

Another  striking  difference  is  the  imprac- 
ticability of  establishing  depots  of  supplies  upon 
the  Arctic  sea-ice  with  confidence  of  being  able 
to  find  them  again,  because  the  shifting,  break- 
ing up,  under-running  and  over-running  of  the 
ice-floes  is  pretty  sure  to  destroy  them;  while  in 
the  Antarctics  the  solid  continent  makes  it  prac- 
ticable to  establish  as  many  depots  of  supplies 
as  one  wishes.  A  party  approaching  the  South 
Pole  could  leave  a  depot  every  few  miles  to  be 


AIRSHIP  POSSIBILITIES        395 

picked  up  on  the  return  journey,  thus  enor- 
mously lightening  loads  and  facilitating  rapid 
travel. 

My  plan  was  to  use  a  motor-balloon  of  large 
capacity  for  a  quick  approach  to  the  South  Pole, 
then  probably  descending  upon  the  continent 
and  completing  the  work  of  exploration,  and  the 
return  trip  to  the  base  established  by  steamship 
at  the  edge  of  the  land,  by  means  of  sledges  and 
dogs  carried  in  the  airship.  But  investigation 
disclosed  that  the  winds  of  the  Antarctic  conti- 
nent blow  almost  constantly,  and  with  consider- 
able violence,  down  from  the  great  interior 
plateau  toward  the  surrounding  sea.  In  other 
words,  the  prevailing  winds  blow  in  precisely  the 
wrong  direction  for  those  who  would  use  an  air- 
ship as  a  means  of  approach  to  the  South  Pole. 

It  is  not  improbable  special  circumstances  will 
be  found  in  which  the  motor-balloon  becomes 
available  for  commercial  purposes,  such  as  the 
maintenance  of  communication  between  islands 
and  the  mainland,  or  between  a  mountain  town 
and  the  valley  down  below.  Nor  is  there  any 
doubt  that  an  airship  of  special  design  could  be 
advantageously  employed  in  the  effort  to  scale 
Mt.  McKinley  or  explore  other  difficult  regions 
and  mountains. 


CHAPTER  LI 

OBSTACLES    TO    COMMERCIAL    USE 

So  great  are  the  obstacles  in  the  way  of  gen- 
eral commercial  use  of  the  motor-balloon  over 
land  that  we  must  frankly  express  a  doubt  if 
they  can  be  overcome,  though  reserving  the  state- 
ment already  made  that  for  special  commercial 
purposes  where  the  circumstances  are  unusually 
favorable,  and  in  certain  ocean  traffic,  these 
craft  may  be  employed.  Commercial  aerial  nav- 
igation, like  any  other  navigation,  means  opera- 
tion for  a  profit  in  competition  with  railways  and 
steamships.  Involved  in  operation  for  a  profit 
are  certain  requirements  well  understood  but 
which  it  will  be  well  to  state.  First,  there  must 
be  a  high  degree  of  safety  of  operation,  and  re- 
duction to  a  small  minimum  of  the  risk  of  acci- 
dent to  the  ship  itself  and  its  passengers  and 
cargo.  Without  this  high  degree  of  safety,  ships 
and  their  cargoes  cannot  be  insured  at  practi- 
cable premiums,  owners  cannot  afford  to  carry 
their  own  insurance  (since  the  inevitable  losses 
must  be  made  up  in  some  way),  passengers  will 
not  offer  themselves  for  voyages,  and  goods  will 

396 


PROBLEMS  TO  SOLVE  397 

not  be  tendered  for  transportation  without  in- 
surance. 

Next,  ships  of  an  aerial  transportation  line, 
like  steamships,  and  railway  trains,  must  be 
fairly  sure  of  setting  out  on  a  given  schedule, 
and  of  accomplishing  the  voyage  in  a  reasonably 
close  approximation  to  the  time  advertised  be- 
forehand. It  is  clear  that  great  uncertainty  of 
departure  and  of  time  of  arrival  would  consti- 
tute a  handicap  against  the  enterprise  in  compe- 
tition with  more  stable  modes  of  transportation. 

These  objections,  sure  to  hold  in  the  long  run, 
might  not  apply  sharply  to  an  aerial  line  as  long 
as  the  novelty  remained.  For  the  unusual  ex- 
perience of  a  trip  in  the  air  passengers  might 
offer  themselves  and  be  willing  to  pay  much 
higher  rates  of  fare  than  they  would  have  to 
pay  upon  competing  lines.  Some  business  cf 
this  character  has  been  done  in  Germany,  where 
the  Zeppelin  airship  has  carried  a  considerable 
number  of  passengers  on  short  voyages  at  rates 
of  fare  which  must  be  regarded  as  fanciful  from 
the  purely  commercial  standpoint. 

One  great  obstacle  to  the  commercial  employ- 
ment of  a  motor-balloon  is  the  impossibility  of 
taking  a  large  ship  of  this  character  out  of  her 
shelter  house  without  incurring  serious  risk  of 
disaster,  if  the  maneuver  be  attempted  at  any 
other  time  than  in  a  period  of  light  winds  or 


398  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

calm.  It  is  axiomatic  for  obvious  reasons  that 
the  larger  the  ship  the  more  likely  is  she  to  give 
a  good  account  of  herself  in  the  air.  In  a  ship 
of  great  size  there  is  opportunity  to  instal  pow- 
erful and  heavy  engines  and  to  carry  a  reserve 
of  fuel  and  ballast  sufficient  to  meet  many  emer- 
gencies. This  is  true  because  the  weight  of  an 
airship — the  balloon,  the  car,  the  suspension,  the 
motors  and  permanent  equipment — does  not  in- 
crease as  rapidly  as  the  displacement  and  the 
lifting  po^ver.  Double  the  size  of  a  well-built 
and  well-equipped  airship  of  the  dirigible  type 
and  you  approximately  quadruple  the  amount  of 
lifting  force  which  can  be  devoted  to  fuel  and 
ballast  and  cargo. 

But,  the  larger  the  ship  the  more  difficult  it 
is  to  handle  while  not  in  the  air  under  her  own 
power.  It  must  be  taken  out  of  the  shelter  house 
by  means  of  guiding  lines  held  in  the  hands  of 
men,  and  with  a  large  craft,  if  a  considerable 
wind  is  blowing,  this  is  a  most  difficult  task.  It 
is  well  nigh  impossible  to  utilize  enough  men  to 
make  sure  that  the  huge  craft,  when  caught  by 
the  wind,  shall  not  acquire  momentum  and  bring 
on  the  danger  of  escape  or  of  injuring  itself. 
When  such  a  ship  is  partly  out  of  a  hangar  or 
balloon  shed,  and  the  wind  catches  it  broadside, 
the  risk  is  great  that  it  may  be  thrown  against 
the  walls  of  the  house  and  be  damaged  or  de- 


PROBLEMS  TO  SOLVE  399 

stroyed,  despite  the  efforts  of  the  personnel  to 
control  it. 

It  is  true  that  much  may  be  done  toward  mini- 
mizing this  difficulty  by  equipping  a  balloon  or 
shelter  house  with  specially  arranged  netting  to 
help  control  the  craft  whilst  she  is  in  the  process 
of  emerging  from  or  entering  the  structure. 
Also,  by  having  a  large  and  well-trained  crew  of 
men  to  handle  the  leading  lines.  By  such  means 
it  is  probable  airships,  even  those  of  great  size, 
may  be  prudently  managed  in  winds  blowing  up 
to  ten  or  possibly  fifteen  miles  per  hour,  which 
means,  counting  the  average  winds  of  the  At- 
lantic seaboard  of  the  United  States,  that  such 
a  craft  could  set  out  upon  a  voyage  in  little  more 
than  one-half  of  the  hours.  But  we  do  not  yet 
see  the  method  by  which  such  a  ship  could  be 
assured  of  starting  at  any  appointed  hour,  re- 
gardless of  wind  and  weather,  as  steamships  do 
in  99  cases  out  of  100. 

But  the  greatest  obstacle  to  the  commercial 
employment  of  airships  of  the  gas  type,  save  in 
special  circumstances,  is  the  uncertainty  which 
must  cling  about  their  arrival  at  their  prede- 
termined destination.  Here  the  hazard  is  not  so 
great  as  to  preclude  their  use  for  sport,  or  ex- 
ploration, or  for  the  purposes  of  war.  In  all  of 
these  fields  a  certain  amount  of  risk  is  inevitable, 
acceptable,  a  part  of  the  game.  But  it  is  a 


400  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

doubtful  question  whether  or  not  the  hazards  are 
too  great  to  admit  of  actual  commercial  work, 
voyages  for  a  profit. 

It  is  unfortunately  true  that  it  is  impossible 
to  build  a  motor-balloon,  no  matter  how  great 
its  size  and  power,  or  how  advanced  its  engineer- 
ing and  equipment,  which  can  attain  the  same 
high  degree  of  safety  upon  a  voyage  of  consid- 
erable length  as  that  which  is  common  to  steam- 
ships. The  reasons  for  this  are  important,  and 
should  be  given  with  care. 

In  considering  this  phase  of  the  problem  we 
shall  eliminate  airships  of  relatively  small  di- 
mensions and  meager  equipment,  built  for  sport 
or  exhibition  or  advertising  purposes,  and  deal 
only  with  what  we  may  call  the  advanced  and 
highly  engineered  airships — the  ships  of  the  fu- 
ture, if,  indeed,  the  art  has  a  certain  future  of 
development  and  growth.  We  shall  reckon  only 
upon  craft  which  have  engines  powerful  enough 
to  give  them  very  high  speeds,  and  capacity  great 
enough  to  enable  them  to  carry  large  reserve 
supplies  of  fuel  to  meet  serious  emergencies. 
Such  ships  may  or  may  not  be  built  for  commer- 
cial purposes,  but  in  the  future  it  is  quite  sure 
we  shall  have  them  as  parts  of  the  navies  and 
military  establishments  of  the  advanced  and 
scientific  powers. 


CHAPTER  LII 

LIMITATIONS   OF  AERIAL   CRAFT 

The  first  striking  discovery  we  make  in  our 
analysis  is  the  radical  difference  of  principle 
which  exists  between  the  navigation  of  a  steam- 
ship, a  battleship  or  cruiser,  over  the  ocean,  and 
the  navigation  of  a  ship  of  the  air,  whether  over 
the  sea  or  over  the  land.  If  a  steamship  en- 
counters a  gale  blowing  forty  miles  per  hour,  as 
a  rule  the  progress  of  the  ship  is  not  interrupted. 
It  may  be  necessary  to  reduce  the  speed  one- 
quarter  or  one-half,  on  account  of  the  roughness 
of  the  sea,  but  generally  the  ship  proceeds  on  her 
way.  If  the  storm  be  unusually  violent,  and  the 
sea  runs  very  high,  the  worst  that  usually  hap- 
pens is  that  the  ship  must  lie  to  for  a  few  hours 
till  the  storm's  center  shall  have  passed  and  bet- 
ter conditions  obtain,  when  the  voyage  is  re- 
sumed. 

The  steamship  during  such  circumstances 
drifts  but  a  few  miles  out  of  her  course;  she  lies 
to  without  expenditure  of  more  than  enough  fuel 
to  keep  low  fires  under  her  boilers.  It  makes 
little  difference  from  which  point  of  the  compass 

401 


402  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  storm  blows,  and  no  very  serious  difference 
how  long  it  continues.  The  explanation  is  ob- 
vious: the  steamship  is  affected  in  its  movement 
and  course  only  to  a  very  small  extent  by  the 
winds,  say  one  or  two  or  perhaps  five  per  cent.,  of 
the  force  of  the  wind,  regardless  of  whether  the 
\vind  is  ahead  or  astern  or  broadside  on.  The 
craft  is  sailing  in  the  water,  not  in  the  air. 

But  it  is  altogether  different  with  the  ship  of 
the  air.  She  is  navigating  the  air  alone,  is  a 
part  of  the  air,  and  currents  in  the  air  exert  upon 
her,  not  merely  one  or  two  or  perhaps  five  per 
cent,  of  their  force,  but  all  of  it,  one  hundred  per 
cent.  Thus  we  find  that  while  the  wind  means 
little  to  the  master  of  a  steamship  of  high  power, 
and  considerably  more  to  the  mariner  of  a  sailing 
vessel,  to  the  skipper  of  a  ship  of  the  air  it  is 
everything. 

Let  us  assume  that  an  airship  sets  out  upon  a 
voyage  from  New  York  to  Chicago,  a  distance 
of  about  one  thousand  statute  miles.  The  nor- 
mal speed  of  the  ship,  in  still  air,  is  between 
twenty-five  and  thirty-five  miles  per  hour,  ac- 
cording to  the  engine  power  kept  in  operation. 
But  she  is  equipped  in  such  a  way,  with  reserve 
engine  power  for  emergencies,  that  at  will  her 
commander  may  increase  her  speed  up  to  fifty 
miles  per  hour.  In  calm  weather,  at  normal 
speed,  the  ship  would  make  the  voyage  from 


AIRCRAFT  LIMITATIONS       403 

New  York  to  Chicago  in  thirty-five  or  forty 
hours. 

But  suppose  that  after  having  reached  the 
neighborhood  of  Lake  Erie  a  nor'wester  blow- 
ing at  forty  miles  per  hour  should  be  encoun- 
tered. What  would  then  happen  ?  For  the  sake 
of  illustration,  and  to  make  the  matter  quite 
clear,  assume  that  the  engines  have  been  stopped. 
In  that  case  of  course  the  ship  simply  drifts  with 
the  wind.  It  flies  to  the  southeast  Math  the  ve- 
locity of  the  storm,  and  it  is  only  a  question  of 
time  when  it  will  pass  out  over  the  Atlantic  some- 
where in  the  neighborhood  of  Chesapeake  Bay. 

To  avert  this  undesirable  and  perhaps  dan- 
gerous drift  the  master  of  the  ship  must  set  his 
engine  running.  He  must  fight  the  storm.  If 
the  engine  give  the  ship  a  movement  of  forty 
miles  per  hour — just  equal  to  the  average  force 
of  the  wind — the  ship  will  stand  still.  If  the 
engine  yield  a  speed  of  only  thirty  miles  per 
hour  the  craft  will  drift  ten  miles  per  hour  with 
the  wind.  If  the  engine  produces  fifty  miles  per 
hour  the  ship  will  make  ten  miles  per  hour  on  her 
course. 

Thus  we  see  at  once  that  when  an  airship  en- 
counters a  wind  blowing  contrary  to  the  course  the 
ultimate  safety  of  the  craft  depends  upon  en- 
gine power,  then  upon  the  intensity  and  duration 
of  the  storm,  and  finally,  in  the  last  analysis,  upon 


404  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  endurance  of  the  ship — that  is,  the  quantity 
of  fuel  carried  in  her  bunkers,  her  ability  to  keep 
up  the  struggle  till  she  shall  have  won  the  victory 
or  the  weather  conditions  change  for  the  better. 

Hence  the  importance  of  large  airships,  with 
great  carrying  power,  and  ample  stores  of  re- 
serve fuel  to  meet  emergencies.  Whereas  a 
marine  vessel  may  find  a  greater  measure  of 
safety  by  reducing  engine  output,  or  stopping 
the  engines  altogether  in  a  storm,  an  airship 
must  not  only  keep  her  motors  running  all  the 
time,  but  to  make  sure  of  not  losing  headway 
must  increase  the  output  of  power  and  in  conse- 
quence the  consumption  of  the  precious  fuel. 

High  speed  is  costly.  Theoretically  a  speed  of 
fifty  miles  per  hour  costs  four  times  as  much 
energy  as  a  speed  of  twenty-five  miles  per  hour, 
measured  in  time,  and  in  practice  probably  a 
trifle  more.  With  an  airship  involved  in  a  storm, 
the  first  fear  of  her  master  would  be  of  a  break- 
down of  his  engines,  though  in  the  ship  of  the 
future,  which  we  are  now  considering,  there  will 
be  no  more  danger  of  engine  failure  than  in  a 
modern  steamship.  His  second  fear  will  be 
that  his  stock  of  fuel  shall  become  exhausted  be- 
fore he  has  weathered  the  storm  and  made  port. 

It  is  true  that  with  a  highly-developed  airship, 
able  to  remain  a  long  time  in  the  air,  advantage 
may  be  taken  of  the  fact  that  sea-room,  so  to 


AIRCRAFT  LIMITATIONS       405 

speak,  is  virtually  unlimited.  There  being  no 
danger  of  running  upon  the  rocks,  or  a  lee  coast, 
the  ship  may  be  permitted  to  drift  with  an  adverse 
wind.  Or,  an  economical  part  of  the  engine 
power  may  be  employed  to  hold  the  craft  into 
the  wind,  losing  headway  but  not  so  rapidly  as 
with  no  engine  running,  waiting  for  the  storm 
to  subside  and  prepared  to  regain  the  lost  ground 
when  the  conditions  should  improve.  This  would 
enable  the  master  of  the  craft  to  conserve  his  store 
of  fuel  and  be  the  more  sure  of  his  ability  to  ride 
out  the  gale  and  ultimately  reach  port. 

For  example,  in  the  case  which  we  have  just 
considered,  the  ship  might  be  kept  against  the 
wind  at  a  speed  of  thirty  miles  per  hour,  losing 
ten  miles  per  hour  on  the  course.  At  the  end  of 
twenty-four  hours,  assuming  the  storm  to  have 
blown  itself  out  by  then,  a  total  of  240  miles 
would  have  been  lost.  Eight  hours  would  be 
required  to  recover  the  lost  ground,  at  normal 
speed;  but  the  stock  of  fuel  would  not  be  so 
nearly  exhausted  as  would  have  been  the  case  if 
the  ship  were  kept  going  all  the  time  at  her  top 
speed  and  most  costly  output  of  power. 

If  the  wind  should  now  turn  to  the  east  or 
southeast,  the  lost  miles  would  be  very  rapidly 
regained,  because  the  force  of  the  wind  would  be 
added  to  the  energy  of  the  motors.  We  thus 
see  again  that  the  wind  is  the  prime  factor  in  a 


406  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

voyage  by  airship.  An  aerial  cruiser,  no  matter 
how  great  its  engine  power  and  speed,  must  be 
prepared  to  struggle  against  winds  arid  storms. 
It  is  largely  a  question  of  endurance,  and  en- 
durance means  large  ships.  Though  an  airship 
has  this  advantage  over  a  marine  vessel,  that 
with  a  wind  blowing  directly  in  line  with  the  de- 
sired course  it  gains  one  hundred  per  cent,  ben- 
efit from  the  atmospheric  movement,  this  is 
counterbalanced  by  the  fact  that  in  unfavorable 
winds  it  suffers  losses  to  the  extent  of  one  hun- 
dred per  cent.  And  the  equation  is  thrown  al- 
together out  of  balance,  unfavorably  to  the  air- 
craft, when  we  remember  that  the  ship  of  the  air 
may  get  into  almost  if  not  quite  as  serious  diffi- 
culties with  a  favorable  wind  as  with  one  blowing 
in  the  adverse  direction.  Assume,  again,  that  we 
are  traveling  through  the  air  from  New  York, 
bound  for  Chicago.  While  over  Lake  Erie  we 
are  overtaken  by  a  storm  of  forty  miles  per  hour, 
this  time  coming  from  the  east.  It  is  moving 
directly  toward  Chicago,  and  in  a  few  hours,  by 
adding  the  help  of  the  winds  to  the  power  of  our 
motors,  we  shall  be  at  or  near  our  destination. 

Now  the  great  problem  which  the  master  of 
the  vessel  has  to  decide  is  how  he  can  make  a 
safe  landing  in  a  forty-mile  wind.  It  is  clearly 
impossible  to  bring  her  down  to  earth  in  any  open 
field  or  clear  space  without  incurring  the  dan- 


AIRCRAFT  LIMITATIONS       407 

ger,  almost  the  certainty,  that  she  will  be 
wrecked  by  the  gale  after  reaching  the  ground, 
the  ship  being  seriously  damaged  or  destroyed 
even  if  the  passengers  and  crew  escape  with  their 
lives.  In  order  to  make  a  safe  landing  in  such 
a  wind  it  is  necessary  to  reach  a  specially  built 
shelter  house  or  landing  field  where  there  is  a 
wind-:wall  or  other  guard  behind  which  the  craft 
may  be  brought  gently  to  the  ground. 

In  other  words,  a  ship  of  the  air  running  to 
port  out  of  a  storm,  must  have  a  harbor  to  take 
refuge  in,  just  as  the  ship  of  the  sea  must  have 
a  roadstead  or  other  safe  anchorage  to  make  for 
— one  of  nature's  creation  or  made  by  man's  cun- 
ning, like  a  breakwater  or  artificial  harbor  be- 
hind a  sea-wall.  The  difference  between  the  two 
craft,  under  such  circumstances,  is,  however,  a 
great  one.  The  ship  of  the  sea  can  in  ninety- 
nine  cases  out  of  one  hundred  make  the  roadstead 
or  harbor  and  effect  a  safe  anchorage'.  But  any 
man  who  has  handled  a  great  airship  understands 
very,  well  the  difficulty  of  steering  and  handling 
such  a  craft  in  a  strong  wind  and  getting  safely 
within  the  shelter  provided  for  its  reception.  It 
is  not  impossible,  but  it  is  difficult;  there  would 
be  at  least  a  certain  percentage  of  risk  of  dis- 
aster, and  this  hazard  must  be  taken  into  account 
by  all  who-  project-  aerial  transportation  systems. 

If  the  master  of  the  air  vessel  found  it  im- 


408  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

practicable  to  steer  his  craft  within  the  shelter- 
space,  he  would  have  no  recourse  but  to  take  to 
the  open  air  again  and  make  a  run  for  safety. 
Thus  the  very  wind  that  had  helped  him  the  more 
quickly  to  reach  his  destination  might  now  play 
him  the  scurvy  trick  of  carrying  him  against  his 
will  far  beyond  his  port.  And  here  again  comes 
to  the  front  the  elementary  difference  between 
ships  of  the  sea  and  ships  of  the  air.  If  a  marine 
vessel  finds  it  impracticable  to  make  port  in  a  gale 
of  wind  she  may  lie  to,  or  hover  about  outside, 
near  by,  with  little  or  no  expenditure  of  fuel 
while  waiting  for  the  storm  to  subside.  But  the 
aircraft  must  keep  her  engines  going  at  top 
speed  or  be  drifted  rapidly  away ;  and  every  mile 
of  such  enforced  driftage  must  afterward  be  re- 
gained at  the  cost  of  more  time  and  fuel. 

Inasmuch  as  wind-guards  or  walls  behind 
which  craft  are  expected  to  find  shelter  need  not 
cost  large  sums  of  money,  it  would  be  practi- 
cable for  the  managers  of  an  aerial  line  to  create 
a  considerable  number  of  such  stations,  at  inter- 
vals along  the  routes.  Each  station  should  have 
nettings  at  hand  to  assist  in  controlling  the  ship 
after  her  descent,  and  a  trained  and  well-directed 
force  of  men.  There  is  nothing  impossible  about 
the  proposal  to  establish  aerial  lines  between 
cities,  that  is,  nothing  impossible  from  the  en- 
gineering or  aeronautic  viewpoint.  The  ques- 


AIRCRAFT  LIMITATIONS       409 

tion  is  largely  commercial — whether  or  not,  con- 
sidering the  competition  and  the  prospective 
earnings,  as  well  as  the  risks  involved,  the  ven- 
ture would  return  a  profit. 

A  motor-balloon  large  enough  and  well  enough 
equipped  to  have  any  chance  to  attain  results 
would  cost  upwards  of  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  Gas  apparatus,  hangars,  shelter  houses, 
machine  shops,  etc.,  would  cost  as  much  more. 
A  large  staff  of  employes  would  have  to  be  main- 
tained. The  per  cent,  necessarily  written  off 
each  year  or  season  for  risk  and  depreciation 
would  be  heavy.  An  accident  now  and  then  in 
the  course  of  operation  would  be  inevitable.  The 
cost  of  keeping  a  large  ship  inflated  with  hy- 
drogen is  an  important  item. 

Finally,  airships  of  the  motor-balloon  type 
cannot  be  built  to  equal  the  speed,  comfort,  ca- 
pacity and  security  of  railway  trains.  Hence  I 
think  it  fairly  clear  such  craft  cannot  hope  to 
rival  the  railways  in  open  competition  doing 
the  work  of  common  carriers  over  land  routes. 
The  possibility  of  such  competition  with  steam- 
ships over  water  routes  is  a  somewhat  different 
question. 


CHAPTER  LIII 

THE  FUTURE  TRANSATLANTIC  AIRSHIP 

That  the  Atlantic  Ocean  can  be  crossed  by  an 
airship  of  the  motor-balloon  type  there  is  no 
doubt  whatever.  The  feat  could  be  accom- 
plished, simply  as  a  demonstration  of  its  feasi- 
bility, with  an  airship  much  like  the  recent 
America,  only  a  little  larger  and  more  highly 
powered  and  better  equipped.  The  value  of 
such  a  demonstration,  apart  from  the  general 
information  derived  from  it,  would  be  as  the  fore- 
runner of  an  application  of  the  method  to  mili- 
tary operations  or  to  a  regular  aerial  service  for 
the  public  convenience. 

The  practicability  of  carrying  passengers 
across  the  ocean,  in  quick  time,  and  with  im- 
munity from  seasickness,  is  a  sound  and  ra- 
tional engineering  and  aeronautic  proposition. 
That  is,  it  can  be  done;  whether  or  not  it  would 
pay  as  a  purely  commercial  venture  is  a  problem 
which  no  one  is  now  able  to  decide  and  which  the 
future  will  have  to  determine. 

An  air-craft  to  traverse  the  three  thousand 
knots  or  sea-miles  which  lie  between  New  York 

410 


FUTURE  OCEAN  AIRSHIP      411 

and  London  must  be  of  great  size.  Neither 
time  nor  money  must  be  spared  in  her  construc- 
tion and  equipment.  The  engineering  must  be 
sound  and  comprehensive,  and  the  work  of  the 
constructor  must  adhere  strictly  to  plans  and 
specifications.  No  second  rate  talent,  no  hap- 
hazard methods,  will  suffice.  The  engine-equip- 
ment must  yield  great  power,  and  must  be  so 
planned  and  installed  that  the  operation  of  the 
motors  shall  be  as  sure  and  certain  as  in  a  mod- 
ern steamship.  The  fuel-carrying  capacity  of 
the  ship  must  be  very  large,  and  her  reserve  of 
buoyancy  and  energy  ample  to  provide  a  prudent 
margin  against  unfavorable  conditions  of  wind 
and  weather. 

In  the  following  pages  is  given  the  outline  of 
an  airship  designed  to  make  the  voyage  from 
New  York  to  London,  or  vice  versa,  in  four 
days,  with  neutral  winds;  in  two  and  one-half 
or  three  days  with  favorable  air  currents ;  in  five 
or  six  days  with  some  adverse  winds.  This  is  a 
much  larger  and  more  powerful  and  costly  ship 
than  would  be  required  merely  to  make  a  dem- 
onstration. It  is  such  a  ship  as  would  at  least 
have  a  chance  to  carry  demonstration  and  exper- 
iment forward  into  the  field  of  actual  commer- 
cial and  regular  service,  since  it  is  a  craft  de- 
signed to  carry  fifty  or  sixty  passengers  each 
voyage,  in  addition  to  the  crew. 


412  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  reader  may  be  somewhat  astonished  at 
the  great  size  of  this  proposed  ship,  at  the  enor- 
mous lifting  and  carrying  capacity.  He  may 
be  inclined  to  look  upon  it  all  as  a  dream,  a  work 
of  fiction.  But  I  wish  to  assure  him  everything 
planned  here  is  within  the  limits  of  aeronautic 
engineering  and  construction.  To  create  such  a 
ship  is  merely  a  matter  of  demand  and  capital. 
If  it  can  once  be  demonstrated,  as  it  may  be,  that 
there  is  a  commercial  future  for  such  craft,  the 
capital  will  be  forthcoming,  and  the  engineering 
and  construction  are  already  within  the  limits  of 
the  art.  The  ship  of  which  we  are  writing,  and 
which  may  some  day  be  actually  put  in  service 
between  New  York  and  London,  is  only  about 
thrice  as  large  as  the  latest  Zeppelin,  and  about 
five  and  one-half  times  larger  than  the  late  Amer- 
ica. 

The  greatest  diameter  of  the  balloon  part  of 
our  suggested  airship  is  20  meters,  or  65.6  feet. 
This  diameter  is  carried  nearly  the  whole  length, 
giving  the  body  of  the  ship  a  cylindrical  shape, 
rounded  and  pointed  at  the  ends.  The  balloon 
is  given  a  length  ten  times  the  diameter,  200 
meters,  or  656  feet.  The  total  surface  of  the 
balloon  or  gas-reservoir  is  12,000  square  meters, 
or  128,880  square  feet,  equivalent  to  about  three 
acres.  The  total  volume  of  the  balloon  is  60,000 
meters  cube,  or  2,118,800  cubic  feet.  Assuming 


FUTURE  OCEAN  AIRSHIP      413 

the  temperature  of  the  air  to  be  60  Fahrenheit, 
and  the  atmospheric  pressure  normal  at  29.92 
inches,  or  760  millimeters  of  mercury,  the  weight 
of  the  air  displaced  from  the  interior  of  this  bal- 
loon is  73,500  kilogrammes,  or  162,000  pounds. 

Filled  with  hydrogen  of  a  high  but  practicable 
degree  of  purity,  weighing  about  100  grammes 
per  meter  cube  (.00624  pounds  per  cubic  foot), 
the  gas  will  weigh  6000  kilogrammes,  or  13,225 
pounds,  and  the  buoyancy  or  lifting  force  of  the 
balloon  will  of  course  equal  the  difference  between 
the  weight  of  the  air  taken  out  and  the  weight  of 
the  gas  put  in  its  place,  which  is  67,500  kilo- 
grammes or  148,675  pounds.  Thus  the  total 
lifting  force  available  is  nearly  75  American 
tons. 

To  hold  this  great  volume  of  hydrogen,  with 
ample  tensile  strength  in  the  envelope  to  resist 
the  upward  thrust  of  the  gas  and  to  make  sure  of 
sufficient  tightness  to  prevent  the  escape  of  more 
than  about  one  per  cent,  per  twenty-four  hours, 
it  is  necessary  to  make  the  balloon  of  the  best 
procurable  material,  and  of  considerable  weight- 
In  all  parts  above  the  equatorial  line  of  the  bal- 
loon, the  cloth  must  be  three  thicknesses  of  the 
strongest  cotton,  each  fabric  heavily  coated  with 
an  emulsion  of  rubber,  and  having  a  weight  of 
600  grammes  per  meter  square  (approximately 
two  ounces  per  square  foot). 


414  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  parts  below  the  equatorial  line,  not  being 
subjected  to  so  much  strain,  may  be  of  lighter 
material.  Here  we  use  two  strong  cottons,  both 
rubbered,  with  a  weight  of  400  grammes  per 
meter  square.  The  average  weight  of  the  fabric 
of  the  whole  balloon,  therefore,  is  500  grammes 
per  meter  square,  making  the  total  weight  of  the 
envelope  6,000  kilogrammes.  To  this  must  be 
added  about  ten  per  cent,  for  the  lappings  of  the 
seams,  the  thread,  and  the  extra  rubber  cement 
used  to  stop  all  needle  holes.  The  inner  reser- 
voirs for  containing  air  will  weigh  600  kilo- 
grammes, and  the  valves,  air-ducts,  relingues  or 
points  of  attach,  and  the  system  of  steel  suspen- 
sion cables,  500  kilogrammes. 

About  the  whole  upper  half  of  the  balloon  we 
throw  a  chemise  or  outer  covering  of  rubbered 
cotton,  leaving  a  space  between  the  balloon 
proper  and  this  outside  sheet.  It  is  a  ventilating 
space,  and  is  to  be  used  in  the  following  manner : 
Air  will  always  be  kept  circulating  through  this 
space,  and  as  it  absorbs  the  radiant  heat  of  the 
sun  the  warmer  air  will  rise  to  the  top  and  escape 
through  automatic  valves;  as  this  air  takes  up 
the  heat  of  the  sun's  rays  and  passes  it  off  as  the 
warmed  air  is  replaced  by  cool  air  (arrangements 
are  made  to  artificially  cool  the  supply),  the  ab- 
eorption  of  heat  by  the  hydrogen  within  is  almost 
entirely  prevented. 


FUTURE  OCEAN  AIRSHIP      415 

In  this  way  we  overcome  one  of  the  greatest 
difficulties  in  the  management  of  a  gas  airship, 
namely,  the  large  and  rapid  gain  or  loss  of  lift- 
ing force  due  to  the  alternate  expansion  and  con- 
traction of  the  air  due  to  temperature  changes 
and  the  coming  and  going  of  the  sun.  Arrange- 
ments are  made  not  only  to  supply  artificially 
cooled  air  to  the  ventilation  chamber,  but  to  the 
inner  balloons  as  well  whenever  occasion  de- 
mands. Moreover,  as  lower  temperature  threat- 
ens to  contract  the  gas  and  cause  undue  loss  of 
lifting  force,  it  is  arranged  that  hot  air  can  be 
thrown  into  the  ballonets.  The  exhaust  heat 
from  the  motors  is  utilized  for  this  purpose.  By 
these  means  the  temperature  of  the  contents  of 
the  aerostat  may  be  kept  very  nearly  at  a  con- 
stant value. 

The  weight  of  this  outer  jacket  is  about  2300 
kilogrammes,  bringing  the  total  weight  of  the 
balloon  and  its  direct  appurtenances  up  to  an 
even  10,000  kilogrammes,  or  22,046  pounds- 
eleven  American  tons  of  cotton  and  rubber  in  the 
huge  envelope  or  hull  of  our  ship.  But  as  the 
total  lifting  force  is  67,500  kilogrammes,  or  148,- 
675  pounds,  we  still  have  57,500  kilogrammes  or 
over  126,000  pounds  available  for  other  pur- 
poses. 


CHAPTER  LIV 

POWER  AND   EQUIPMENT   OF   THE   GREAT  AIRSHIP 

Underneath  the  balloon,  suspended  by  hun- 
dreds of  steel  cables,  we  place  the  car  or  nacelle 
of  the  airship.  This  is  a  structure  of  metal  fram- 
ing, being  built  of  steel-aluminum  alloy  tubing 
and  steel  wires  of  finest  quality.  Instead  of  one 
solid  and  continuous  structure  from  end  to  end, 
we  divide  the  car  or  nacelle  into  six  sections  of 
fifty  feet  each,  leaving  a  space  between  also  fifty 
feet  in  length,  and  connecting  the  platforms  with 
light  galleries  strong  enough  to  serve  as  a  prom- 
enade deck  for  passengers  and  crew. 

The  reasons  for  this  subdivision  are :  It  is  highly 
desirable,  in  fact  necessary,  to  carry  the  nacelle 
well  forward  and  aft,  so  that  it  may  support  hor- 
izontal planes  for  steadying  the  ship  as  she  moves 
with  great  rapidity  through  the  air — for  this  is 
to  be  an  aerial  greyhound — and  such  planes  are 
most  effective  when  placed  at  the  extreme  ends  of 
the  system.  The  rudder  must  also  be  carried 
well  aft.  Again,  it  is  necessary  to  distribute 
weights  fairly  evenly  throughout,  and  this  can 
best  be  done  with  the  platforms  running  almost 

416 


sS 

si 


3* 

~      — 


POWER  AND  EQUIPMENT     417 

to  the  extreme  ends  of  the  ship.  But  if  the  car 
be  made  full  size  and  strength  throughout  sev- 
eral thousand  pounds  more  weight  is  put  into  it 
than  will  be  necessary  if  we  divide  it  into  sections 
and  connect  the  platforms  with  light  galleries, 
somewhat  after  the  method  followed  in  the 
Zeppelin.  In  fact,  this  plan  is  a  combination 
of  the  continuous  metal  nacelle  of  the  late  Amer- 
ica and  the  platforms  at  intervals  found  in  the 
Zeppelin. 

These  platforms  carry  the  enclosed  cabins  for 
passengers  and  crew,  the  engines,  the  propel- 
lers, all  the  machinery  and  appliances,  the  in- 
struments and  tools,  wireless  outfit  and  electric 
light,  and  the  backbone  of  the  platforms  is 
composed  of  metal  reservoirs  for  containing  the 
large  stock  of  gasoline  to  be  carried  upon  the 
ship. 

The  cabins  are  provided  with  light  beds,  all 
conveniences,  electric  light,  telephones,  dining- 
room,  kitchen,  baths,  music-room,  smoking-room, 
etc. 

Underneath  the  platforms  are  suspended  two 
large  lifeboats,  of  capacity  great  enough  to  ac- 
commodate all  the  passengers  and  the  crew. 
These  boats  are  furnished  with  motors  and  sails, 
and  are  kept  constantly  supplied  with  provi- 
sions, fuel,  water,  instruments,  etc.,  ready  for 
instantaneous  use  in  case  of  accident.  Moreover, 


418  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

their  davits  are  so  arranged  that  at  the  moment 
of  launching,  no  matter  whether  the  airship  be 
running  under  her  own  power,  or  drifting  broad- 
side to  the  wind  after  the  engines  have  stopped, 
the  boats  may  be  launched  stem  on  to  the  course 
which  the  ship  is  making  over  the  water,  averting 
the  great  hazard  of  capsizing  and  swamping 
which  we  had  to  incur  when  we  launched  the 
lifeboat  broadside  in  a  rough  sea  from  the 
America. 

This  transatlantic  airship  is  equipped  with 
engines  and  propellers  designed  to  give  her  a 
maximum  speed  of  45  knots  (50.7  statute  miles) 
per  hour.  The  speed  of  an  airship,  of  course, 
is  measured  as  in  calm  air. 

The  formula  is  that  R, — resistance,  equals  the 
product  of  K — the  coefficient,  .01685;  D2 — the 
greatest  diameter  of  the  airship  in  meters;  and 
V2 — (vitesse)  the  speed  in  still  air  in  meters 
per  second;  the  resistance  thus  found  being  ex- 
pressed in  kilogrammes. 

Using  this  formula,  we  have  for  our  20  meters 
of  diameter  K  —  D  =  6.74.  One  meter  equals 
3.280833  feet,  and  as  there  are  3600  seconds  in 
an  hour  one  meter  per  second  equals  2.237 
statute  miles  of  5,280  feet,  or  1.9426  knots  or 
sea-miles  of  6,080  feet,  per  hour. 

From  this  data  we  compute  the  following 
table,  in  which  the  last  two  columns  represent 


POWER  AND  EQUIPMENT      419 

the  thrust  required  by  the  propellers,  in  kilo- 
grammes and  also  in  pounds,  to  produce  the 
speeds  indicated  in  the  first  three  columns : 


Meters 

Statute 

per 

miles 

Knots 

Thrust  required  in 

second 

per  hour 

per  hour 

Kilos 

Pounds 

10 

22.37 

19.42 

675 

1,486 

12 

26.85 

23.30 

970 

2,140 

14 

31.32 

27.18 

1,320 

2,910 

16 

35.80 

31.07 

1,725 

3,805 

18 

40.27 

34.95 

2,185 

4,817 

20 

44.75 

38.84 

2,696 

5,945 

22 

49-22 

42.72 

3,262 

7,192 

24 

53.70 

46.60 

3,882 

8,558 

26 

58.17 

50.48 

4,556 

10,045 

With  a  good  installation  of  motors,  effective 
driving  gear,  and  the  efficient  modern  propellers, 
a  thrust  of  from  four  to  five  kilogrammes  per 
brake  horse  power  is  practicable.  If  we  take 
this  value  at  the  lower  figure,  four  kilos  per 
horse  power,  we  shall  arrive  at  the  amount  of 
engine  output  required  to  drive  our  ship  at 
various  speeds  through  the  air.  Experience  has 
shown  that  the  weight  of  gasoline,  lubricant  and 
water  for  replenishing  the  supply  in  the  cylinder- 
cooling  circulation  system  averages  about  300 
grammes  per  horse  power  hour  (approximately 
.7  pound)  for  good  engines.  We  are  thus  able 
to  compute  not  only  the  amount  of  engine  out- 


Fuel,  etc. 

H.  P. 

per  knot, 

required 

pounds 

170 

6.1 

245 

7.2 

330 

8.4 

430 

9.6 

550  • 

10.9 

680 

12.2 

825 

13.5 

980 

14.8 

1,170 

16.2 

420  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

put  required,  but  to  measure  the  cost  of  various 
speeds  in  pounds  per  knot  or  sea-mile  made: 


Knots  per 
hour 
19-5 
23.3 

27.2 
31.0 
35.0 
38.8 
42.7 
46.6 
50.5 

In  other  words,  if  content  with  about  23  knots 
per  hour,  the  speed  of  the  fastest  steamships  now 
plying  between  America  and  Europe,  excepting 
only  the  Mauretania  and  Lusitania,  one  250 
horse-power  motor  would  be  sufficient,  and  the 
motor-supplies  would  amount  to  7.2  pounds  per 
mile  made,  while  a  total  of  about  eleven  tons  of 
fuel,  lubricant  and  cooling-water  would  be  re- 
quired for  crossing  the  Atlantic.  But  if  we  aim 
to  double  the  speed  and  make  46  knots  per  hour, 
we  must  have  four  times  as  much  power  in  the 
engines,  and  the  fuel  supply  must  be  about 
double,  or  45,000  pounds. 

Hence  it  is  important  to  learn  how  much  fuel 
we  can  carry  in  our  airship,  and  how  large  engines 


POWER  AND  EQUIPMENT      421 

we  can  afford  to  instal  and  operate.  We  have 
already  seen  that  of  our  total  lifting  force  of 
148,675  pounds,  22,000  pounds  are  taken  up  by 
the  weight  of  the  balloon,  leaving  126,000  pounds 
still  available.  We  call  this  an  even  125,000 
pounds,  and  proceed  to  ascertain  the  weights  of 
the  remainder  of  the  ship  and  its  equipment  and 
cargo. 

The  six  metal  platforms  or  cars,  with  their 
cabins,  gasoline  storage  reservoirs,  connecting 
decks  or  galleries,  the  horizontal  planes,  the  rud- 
der and  steering  gear,  we  compute  at  a  total  of 
20,000  pounds,  or  ten  tons.  The  two  motor  life- 
boats, their  motors,  provisions  and  fuel,  will 
weigh  4,000  pounds  each,  or  the  two  together 
four  tons!  Instruments,  kitchen,  bedding,  vari- 
ous furnishings,  will  bring  this  total  up  to  30,000 
pounds.  There  is  still  available  95,000  pounds. 

We  decide  to  equip  the  ship  with  four  250 
horse  power  motors,  each  engine  having  its  own 
pair  of  twin  propellers  and  forming  a  complete 
and  independent  propulsive  unit,  the  whole  so 
arranged  that  at  will  one,  two,  three,  or  all  four 
engines  may  be  worked.  We  put  in  also  two 
small  motors  of  15  horse  power  each,  as  service 
engines,  being  used  to  start  the  large  motors, 
to  run  the  electric  light  and  the  wireless,  pump 
air,  and  to  work  the  refrigerating  plant  for  cool- 
ing the  ventilating  chamber.  Excellent  and  re- 


422  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

liable  motors  are  now  made  in  large  units  at 
from  four  to  eight  pounds  per  horse  power,  com- 
plete with  cooling  reservoirs  and  all  appurte- 
nances. At  the  intermediate  figure  of  six  pounds 
per  horse-power  our  battery  of  four  250  horse 
motors  will  weigh  6,000  pounds.  Four  thousand 
pounds  more  suffice  for  air-blowers,  dynamo, 
cooling  apparatus,  heating  plant,  propellers  and 
propeller  frames,  machine  shop,  wireless  ap- 
paratus, tools,  repair  materials,  etc.  We  still 
have  left  a  lifting  force  of  85,000  pounds. 

A  crew  of  twelve  men  is  sufficient  to  manage 
this  ship — two  navigators,  four  men  in  the  en- 
gine room,  and  six  servants  and  general  helpers. 
The  weight  of  the  crew  and  their  spare  clothing, 
etc.,  is  2,000  pounds.  The  ship  is  to  be  fitted  to 
carry  fifty  passengers,  and  their  weight,  with 
light  baggage  is  assumed  at  10,000  pounds. 
Provisions  and  fresh  water  for  ten  days  for  all 
hands,  2,000  pounds.  Miscellaneous  and  con- 
tingent, 3,000  pounds.  For  the  mails  (letter 
mail  only)  3,000  pounds.  Total  in  this  para- 
graph— 20,000  pounds.  Still  available,  65,000 
pounds. 

Five  thousand  pounds  of  this  we  propose  to 
devote  to  a  small  equilibrator,  for  use  only  in 
an  emergency,  and  there  is  left  for  gasoline  and 
other  motor  supplies  a  total  of  60,000  pounds. 


CHAPTER  LV 

TWO  NIGHTS  FROM  NEW  YORK  TO  LONDON 

We  shall  now  consider  some  of  the  possibil- 
ities of  such  an  airship  plying  between  New  York 
and  London,  or,  rather,  of  a  line  of  such  craft, 
for  it  is  assumed  that  if  aerial  ocean  transporta- 
tion ever  becomes  a  reality  its  promoters  will 
aim  at  regularity  of  service  maintained  by  means 
of  a  fleet  of  ships.  We  will  regard  the  distance 
from  New  York  to  London  at  3,000  sea-miles, 
though  there  is  no  good  reason  why  the  aerial 
service,  if  installed,  should  not  have  Halifax  as 
its  western  terminal,  thus  saving  more  than  one- 
quarter  of  the  length  of  each  voyage,  and  in- 
creasing the  safety  of  the  ships  in  even  greater 
measure. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  if  the  master  of  the  aerial 
greyhound  were  to  keep  two  of  his  propulsive 
units  in  operation  throughout  the  voyage,  he 
would  make  about  32  knots  per  hour,  which  is 
twenty-five  per  cent,  greater  speed  than  that  of 
the  Mauretania  and  Lusitania.  Considering 
the  winds  as  neutral,  that  is,  helping  as  much  as 
they  hindered,  the  airship  should  make  the  voy- 

423 


424  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

age  from  New  York  to  London,  with  two  motors 
constantly  working,  in  four  days.  The  con- 
sumption of  fuel  would  amount  to  33,000  pounds, 
and  the  voyage  would  be  completed  with  27,000 
pounds,  or  nearly  one-half  of  the  original  supply, 
still  on  hand. 

If  the  circumstances  were  such  that  the  com- 
mander of  the  airship  deemed  it  prudent  to  run 
three  motors  constantly  throughout  the  voyage, 
the  speed  would  be  forty  knots  per  hour,  and  the 
crossing  would  be  effected  in  75  hours,  a  trifle 
more  than  three  days.  This  would  be  done  at 
the  cost  of  40,000  pounds  of  gasoline,  and  there 
would  still  be  ten  tons  of  fuel  in  the  bunkers. 

Still  assuming  that  the  net  effect  of  the  winds 
is  neutral,  if  the  conditions  favored  running  all 
four  propulsive  units  throughout  the  voyage  a 
crossing  could  be  made  at  the  rate  of  45  knots, 
or  in  67  hours,  less  than  three  days.  But  this 
fast  trip  would  be  accomplished  by  the  expend- 
iture of  47,000  pounds  of  fuel,  leaving  a  margin 
of  only  13,000  pounds  still  on  hand;  and  it  is 
therefore  obvious  that  the  master  of  the  vessel 
would  not  care  to  run  so  close  to  the  end  of  his 
store  of  fuel  unless  the  conditions  were  unusually 
favorable. 

One  of  the  striking  possibilities  of  this  aerial 
express  route  is  that  on  rare  occasions  a  voyage 
might  be  made  in  which  the  winds  were  favor- 


A  TWO-DAYS'  CROSSING     .  425 

able  throughout  most  or  even  all  of  the  trip. 
Assume  that  throughout  a  voyage  the  wind  was 
astern  at  an  average  of  fifteen  miles  per  hour. 
With  the  full  engine  power  in  operation  the 
speed  of  the  ship  would  be  sixty  knots  (seventy 
statute  miles)  per  hour,  and  the  entire  voyage 
would  be  over  in  fifty  hours.  Only  two  days 
and  nights  between  New  York  and  London ! 

If  ships  of  this  type,  or  even  larger  and  more 
powerful,  are  ever  put  in  operation  between  the 
metropolis  of  the  new  world  and  the  metropolis 
of  the  old  (and  he  would  be  a  bold  man  who  as- 
serted that  they  will  or  that  they  will  not),  voy- 
ages made  in  two,  two  and  a  half  or  three  days, 
will  not  be  so  very  uncommon,  and  while  re- 
garded at  first  as  among  the  wonders  of  the  world 
will  soon  cease  to  rouse  comment.  It  is  quite 
within  the  range  of  the  possible  (we  dare  not 
as  yet  say  the  probable)  that  within  twenty 
years  it  will  be  practicable  for  a  traveler  to  leave 
New  York  by  the  air-line  on  Saturday,  have  a 
day  or  two  in  London,  and  be  back  in  New  York 
again  the  following  Saturday  night. 

Of  course  the  less  favorable  side  of  the  picture 
is  presented  when  we  consider  voyages  in  which 
the  prevailing  winds  are  contrary  to  the  course. 
We  may  assume  at  the  outset  that  when  this 
aerial  transocean  line  is  put  in  operation  its  pro- 
moters will  confine  their  voyages  almost  entirely 


426  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

to  the  summer  season,  when  the  tide  of  travel  is 
heaviest  and,  fortunately,  the  winds  are  lightest 
and  the  weather  best.  In  the  summer  months 
the  average  wind  movement  over  the  North  At- 
lantic is  only  about  fifteen  miles  per  hour,  and 
as  a  rule  is  somewhat  variable,  with  a  trend  of 
movement  from  west  to  east.  During  those 
months  eastward  airship  voyages  could  be  made 
with  facility  and  a  high  degree  of  safety.  West- 
ward voyages  as  a  rule  would  be  a  little  slower, 
and  now  and  then  one  might  be  accomplished 
only  with  some  difficulty. 

On  rare  occasions  it  might  be  necessary  to 
seek  a  landing  in  Newfoundland,  or  Nova  Scotia, 
and  the  managers  of  the  line  should  certainly 
equip  landing  stations  in  all  these  countries,  as 
well  as  in  Ireland  and  upon  the  French  littoral, 
to  be  used  in  case  of  emergencies. 

With  the  development  of  aerial  ocean  naviga- 
tion will  also  come  a  like  wonderful  development 
of  the  science  of  meteorology.  Here  again  we 
are  assuredly  upon  the  eve  of  great  things.  The 
United  States  Weather  Bureau,  under  the  able 
and  energetic  management  of  Prof.  Willis  L. 
Moore,  now  gathers  meteorological  data  for  the 
whole  of  the  northern  hemisphere,  particularly 
the  barometric  pressures.  The  winds  for  several 
days  in  advance  can  be  confidently  predicted 
from  thorough  knowledge  of  the  barometric 


A  TWO-DAYS'  CROSSING        427 

gradients  extending  over  wide  areas.  With 
land  stations  covering  all  the  continents,  steam- 
ships and  airships  sailing  in  profusion  all  the 
seas,  and  every  one  equipped  with  Marconi  wire- 
less, it  is  wholly  practicable  to  collect  each  day 
data  so  complete  as  to  enable  the  meteorologist 
to  forecast  the  winds  for  the  North  Atlantic  two, 
three  or  four  days  in  advance,  and  to  do  so  with 
a  high  degree  of  scientific  certainty. 

The  commander  of  an  aerial  transoceanic  liner 
would  receive  this  information  almost  hourly  by 
his  wireless  equipment.  He  could  at  once  judge 
the  conditions — whether  or  not  in  a  given  cir- 
cumstance it  were  prudent  to  continue  his  voyage, 
return  to  the  port  of  departure,  or  seek  another 
port.  In  not  a  few  instances  he  might  advan- 
tageously change  his  route,  running  more  to  the 
south  or  to  the  north,  seeking  there  the  area  of 
favorable,  or  at  least  of  less  unfavorable  winds, 
which  his  information  would  justify  him  in  ex- 
pecting. All  of  this  means  simply  progress, 
development  of  the  agencies  and  instruments 
and  organizations  which  man  has  already  sum- 
moned to  his  aid  in  his  persistent  and  successful 
struggle  to  master  the  elements  and  make  them 
all  subservient  to  his  wants  and  needs. 

The  navigation  of  airships  will  develop  new 
principles  and  methods.  It  will  soon  be  found 
that  it  will  not  do  in  all  cases  to  follow  the  prec- 


428  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

edents  set  by  marine  navigation.  With  the 
master  of  an  aerial  liner  it  is  even  more  important 
than  to  the  skipper  of  a  steamship  to  make  sure 
of  having  always  at  command  an  ample  reserve 
of  fuel.  The  usual  and  ordinary  head  wind  con- 
ditions he  is  able  to  struggle  against  and  over- 
come. But  he  must  maintain  a  reserve  to  meet 
unexpectedly  severe  and  persistent  adverse  con- 
ditions. 

With  strong  and  continuous  head  winds  his 
situation  is  not  as  desperate  as  we  might  think 
it  at  first  glance.  For  instance,  if  he  is  in  mid- 
ocean,  and  finds  strong  head  winds,  and  his 
meteorological  information  gives  little  hope  of 
an  early  change  for  the  better,  this  much  is  cer- 
tain: He  may  find  safety  in  running  with  the 
wind.  The  wind  cannot  be  unfavorable  for 
reaching  both  coasts — it  cannot  blow  from  both 
east  and  west  at  the  same  time.  It  may  be  a  dis- 
appointment to  owners  and  passengers  to  be 
compelled  to  turn  back,  but  taking  advantage  of 
the  very  wind  that  made  this  retreat  imperative 
he  can  quickly  make  his  return  trip. 

To  illustrate,  an  airship  is  voyaging  westward. 
In  mid-ocean  it  meets  a  westerly  gale  of  35  to 
40  miles  an  hour.  Wireless  advices  indicate 
that  it  is  likely  to  continue  for  some  time.  De- 
ciding not  to  continue  the  battle,  the  skipper 
turns  and  runs  for  Europe.  With  the  wind 


A  TWO-DAYS'  CROSSING        429 

alone  his  ship  makes  35  to  40  miles  per  hour. 
Adding  his  entire  motor  service,  he  could  make 
80  or  85  miles  per  hour.  At  that  rate  it  will 
not  take  long  to  cover  the  1400  or  1500  miles 
which  separate  mid-ocean  from  the  British  coast. 

Even  with  the  most  unfavorable  conditions, 
there  need  be  small  risk  of  disaster.  These  air- 
ships are  planned  to  remain  a  long  time  in  the 
air.  They  are  fitted,  as  we  have  pointed  out, 
with  means  to  overcome  one  of  the  greatest  ob- 
stacles to  aerial  navigation  by  ships  of  this  type, 
namety,  the  alternating  expansion  and  contrac- 
tion of  the  gas  due  to  temperature  changes. 
Being  able  to  stay  a  long  time  afloat,  they  need 
fear  neither  rocks  nor  lee  coasts.  They  can  in 
case  of  emergency  sail  over  land  as  well  as  over 
seas.  Strong  winds,  storms,  soon  blow  them- 
selves out.  Conditions  change.  The  air  skip- 
per in  command  of  a  ship  like  this  is  able  to 
weather  the  gale  and  keep  a  reserve  of  fuel  for 
making  a  port  after  the  condition  shall  have  be- 
come more  favorable. 

It  is  true  that  an  aerial  transatlantic  service 
could  not  be  made  quite  as  safe,  and  certainly 
not  as  regular  and  dependable,  as  that  afforded 
by  steamships.  By  the  air  route  the  traveling 
public  must  be  prepared  for  occasional  surprises. 
Now  and  then  a  voyage,  particularly  east  bound, 
would  be  made  in  an  unusually  short  time  with 


430  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

favorable  winds.  Now  and  then  with  head  winds 
a  voyage  would  be  disappointingly  slow,  and 
in  rare  cases  it  might  be  necessary  to  make  a 
landing,  at  least  temporarily,  in  some  other  port 
or  country  than  the  one  called  for  by  the 
schedule. 

Such  an  airship  as  the  one  we  have  under 
consideration  would  carry  a  fair  reserve  of 
energy  and  radius  of  action  with  which  to  meet 
emergencies.  With  60,000  pounds  of  fuel  in 
her  bunkers  she  could  overcome  all  ordinary  ad- 
verse conditions.  To  show  graphically  her  capa- 
bilities I  have  prepared  the  subjoined  table  giv- 
ing approximately  various  values  relating  to  the 
energy,  endurance  and  motoring  radius : 

Motors  in     Ibs.  fuel     radius     radius     to  cross  the  Atlantic 


operation 

per  hour 

hours 

miles 

hours 

Ibs.  fuel 

1 

175 

340 

7,820 

130 

23,000 

2 

350 

170 

5,440 

94 

33,000 

3 

525 

114 

4,560 

75 

40,000 

4 

700 

86 

3,850 

67 

47,000 

Even  larger  airships  than  the  one  designed  here 
can  be  built,  able  to  carry  still  larger  equipment 
of  engines  and  greater  stores  of  fuel.  In  fact, 
there  is  no  reasonable  limit  to  the  dimensions 
such  ships  may  take  on  in  the  future.  Metal 
balloons  or  gas  reservoirs  are  practicable  on  a 


A  TWO-DAYS'  CROSSING        431 

large  scale.  Engines  totaling  five  or  even  ten 
thousand  horse  power  are  not  impossible. 

Surprising  indeed  are  the  possibilities  of  size 
development  in  ships  of  this  type.  If  we  were 
to  build  an  airship  with  a  diameter  twice  the 
one  we  have  been  considering,  or  of  forty  meters 
(132  feet)  and  give  it  a  length  of  ten  times  the 
diameter,  its  total  lifting  power  would  be  1,200,- 
000  pounds,  or  600  American  tons.  Such  a  ship 
could  probably  carry  two  or  three  hundred  pas- 
sengers besides  her  crew,  her  engines  and  enough 
fuel  to  run  her  across  the  ocean  at  high  speed, 
despite  the  fact  that  the  engine-power  would 
have  to  total  12,000  horse-power  to  give  her  a 
speed  of  fifty  knots  per  hour. 

A  monster  airship  like  this  would  cost  a  mil- 
lion dollars  to  build  and  equip.  But  even  at  that 
figure  it  is  not  improbable  she  could  carry  a 
greater  number  of  passengers  in  proportion  to 
her  construction  and  operation  cost  than  a  mod- 
ern steamship  costing  six  or  seven  millions  of 
dollars. 


CHAPTER  LVI 

THE  FUTURE  OF  MECHANICAL  FLIGHT 

At  the  present  time  the  world  apparently  has 
much  more  confidence  in  the  future  of  mechan- 
ical flight  than  in  the  future  of  the  motor-balloon. 
This  is  not  surprising.  Motor-balloons  have 
met  with  many  accidents,  and  have  so  far  failed 
to  perform  much  real  or  regular  service;  while 
so  much  that  is  spectacular  and  astonishing  has 
been  done  with  aeroplanes,  it  is  only  natural  that 
the  public  should  lose  more  or  less  faith  in  the 
one  and  build  greater  and  greater  hopes  upon  the 
future  of  the  other. 

For  the  future  of  mechanical  flight,  as  for  all 
forms  of  conquest  of  the  air,  we  all  entertain 
ardent  hope.  We  are  naturally  optimistic. 
And  our  faith  in  the  ingenuity,  skill  and  per- 
sistency of  man  is  great.  It  is  a  common 
thought  that  the  construction  and  operation  of 
the  aeroplane — using  that  word  generally  for  all 
mechanical  flight  apparatus — is  an  art  now  only 
in  its  infancy,  and  that  in  the  natural  course  of 
things  it  must  be  developed  as  far  beyond  its 
present  stage  as  the  steamship  and  the  automo- 

432 


g< 

fe 

< 
jj 

ss 
H 

^ 

< 


THE  FUTURE  OF  FLIGHT      433 

bile  and  the  railway  have  been  developed 
from  crude  beginnings.  It  does  not  seem  to  any 
of  us  that  having  achieved  so  much — having 
really  conquered  the  air  so  far  as  demonstration 
is  concerned — man  shall  suddenly  find  himself 
stopped  from  going  further,  compelled  to  admit 
that  there  are  limitations  which  he  cannot  over- 
come, and  that  his  beautiful  and  wonderful  ap- 
paratus, which  he  has  developed  with  so  much 
patience  and  sacrifice,  must  remain  a  mere  toy, 
used  almost  exclusively  for  sport  and  exhibition. 

It  is  an  easy  task  to  sit  down  and  imagine 
the  wonderful  achievements  of  the  future — ar- 
tificial birds  as  thick  as  blackberries,  every  man 
who  wishes  being  the  owner  of  one,  huge  me- 
chanical airships  carrying  passengers  and 
freight  across  continents  and  oceans,  aerial  trans- 
portation largely  taking  the  place  of  railways 
and  steamships. 

Though  all  of  us,  in  our  sanguine  moments, 
dare  to  hope  all  of  this  may  some  day  come,  the 
present  state  of  the  art  does  not  warrant  great 
optimism.  The  men  who  are  most  experienced 
in  the  manipulation  of  mechanical  flight  appara- 
tus are  not  the  men  who  predict  the  marvels  of 
which  we  read  so  much  in  the  press.  They  real- 
ize that  there  are  limitations  to  the  art,  limita- 
tions set  by  physical  laws,  mechanical  principles 
and  the  nature  of  materials. 


434  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

Hundreds  of  men  and  machines  fly  in  the  air. 
Some  fly  a  little  better  or  higher  or  through 
longer  distances  than  others.  Much  depends 
upon  the  man  driving  the  machine.  All  of  the 
machines  are  in  principle  the  same.  All  are 
small.  All  are  limited  in  carrying  power  and 
radius  of  movement.  All  seem  subject  to  the 
same  restrictions. 

The  aeroplane  of  to-day  is  an  air  motor-cycle, 
which  can  carry  one,  two,  perhaps  three,  possibly 
four  men  over  short  distances.  The  greater  the 
load  the  shorter  the  flight.  It  is  not  a  machine 
which  any  or  all  persons  can  drive.  It  is  not  as 
easily  mastered  as  the  bicycle.  For  this  and 
many  other  reasons  it  is  not  likely  to  come  into 
general  use.  To  learn  to  drive  it  requires  time, 
patience  and  courage,  and  also  special  aptitude. 
The  men  who  make  the  greatest  success  with  it 
possess  this  aptitude.  They  are  not  unlike  the 
professional  bicycle  riders,  men  whose  skill  en- 
ables them  to  perform  marvelous  feats  upon  that 
machine.  To-day  aeroplane  driving  is  much 
like  aerial  trick  bicycle  riding.  It  is  only  for 
the  practised,  the  skillful,  the  daring,  those  with 
aptitude. 

If  the  aeroplane  were  as  simple  as  the  bicycle, 
if  it  were  as  easily  mastered,  if  use  of  it  were  no 
more  dangerous,  it  might  have  a  future  as  a  use- 
ful vehicle,  small  as  it  is,  and  costly  as  it  is. 


THE  FUTURE  OF  FLIGHT      435 

But  it  is  not  simple;  it  is  not  easy;  it  is  hazard- 
ous. And  in  its  present  form  there  is  little  rea- 
son to  hope  for  its  adoption  even  as  a  limited 
social  vehicle — for  tours  in  the  country,  for  ex- 
cursions, for  going  to  and  from  town,  for  mes- 
sengers, doctors,  errands,  visits.  In  other  words, 
it  does  not  bid  fair  in  any  sort  of  degree  to  take 
the  place  of  the  bicycle.  We  cannot  say  this  is 
absolutely  impossible,  but  at  the  present  moment 
it  is  highly  improbable. 

The  future  of  the  aeroplane  would  be  as- 
sured if  it  gave  any  promise  of  development  into 
an  air  automobile.  As  every  one  knows,  the 
motor-car  is  now  one  of  the  institutions  of  civ- 
ilization. We  wonder  how  we  got  along  with- 
out it  before  it  came.  Not  only  has  the  motor- 
car come  to  stay,  but  it  will  be  ma.de  better, 
cheaper,  more  perfect,  more  convenient,  more 
useful.  Any  one  can  learn  to  drive  it.  It  is 
not  extra  hazardous.  It  is  capable  of  any  sort 
of  development  or  modification.  It  can  be  built 
of  any  size,  for  almost  any  purpose.  No  lim- 
itations hedge  it  in. 

The  aeroplane  in  its  present  form  cannot  be 
developed  into  a  safe  and  convenient,  and  there- 
fore common,  family-carrying  air  motor-car  be- 
cause of  the  same  limitations  which  prevent  its 
being  developed  into  something  like  the  locomo- 
tive or  the  steamship. 


436  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

The  locomotive,  the  steamship,  the  motor-car 
are  capable  of  almost  infinite  development.  In 
this  respect  they  are  like  the  motor-balloon.  We 
have  just  seen  that  the  motor-balloon  may  be 
greatly  developed  in  size  and  perfection.  More- 
over, the  larger  and  heavier  it  is,  other  things 
being  equal,  the  safer,  the  more  likely  to  be  of 
service  to  mankind,  the  more  it  can  carry  of 
engine  power,  fuel  and  cargo,  the  wider  its  ra- 
dius of  action,  the  greater  its  endurance  and  re- 
serve for  meeting  emergencies. 

Strangely  enough,  it  is  precisely  this  sort  of 
development  in  size,  capacity,  power  and  useful- 
ness that  the  aeroplane  in  its  present  form  is 
apparently  incapable  of.  I  say  apparently,  for 
I  do  not  believe  the  last  word  has  been  said.  But 
taking  the  mechanical  flight  apparatus  in  all  its 
forms  as  we  find  it  to-day,  and  we  seem  to  be 
justified  in  declaring  that  it  is  subject  to  this  law 
of  limitation: 

Beyond  a  certain  point  in  size,  weight  and 
capacity,  any  additions  thereto  are  made  with 
loss  and  not  with  gain  of  net  efficiency. 

A  motor-balloon,  for  example,  may  be  devel- 
oped in  all  three  dimensions — length,  breadth, 
thickness.  Double  the  quantity  of  materials 
used  and  you  quadruple  the  volume  or  capacity. 

The  mechanical  flight  machine,  in  which  ca- 


THE  FUTURE  OF  FLIGHT      437 

pacity  depends  not  upon  the  volume,  but  upon 
surface,  is  developable  in  only  two  dimensions, 
length  and  breadth.  In  principle,  thickness  is 
an  absent  dimension. 

It  appears  to  be  impracticable  to  develop  the 
two  dimensions  of  length  and  breadth  beyond  a 
certain  stage  without  doing  one  of  two  things, 
fatally  reducing  structural  strength,  or  fatally 
adding  excessive  weight  in  order  to  get  the 
strength.  The  larger  the  structure  the  greater 
must  be  the  weight  in  proportion  to  the  lifting 
surface.  In  development  of  size  there  thus 
comes  a  point,  due  to  mechanical  principles  and 
the  nature  of  materials,  which  cannot  be  passed. 
And  this  is  the  law  of  limitation  which  applies  to 
the  present  aeroplane. 

Great  is  the  ingenuity  with  which  constructors 
have  striven  to  get  the  greatest  possible  lifting 
surface  with  the  least  possible  weight.  They 
have  searched  the  world  for  light  and  strong 
materials,  and  have  exhausted  the  art  of  me- 
chanics in  their  employment.  They  use  silk  or 
cotton  for  surfaces,  modern  metal  alloys,  bam- 
boo, or  artificial  bamboo-tube  cleverly  built  up 
in  segments  and  wound,  the  best  of  the  \voods 
and  metals,  the  highest  grade  wires  and  appli- 
ances in  their  struggle  for  lightness  and  strength. 
They  do  the  same  with  their  equipment  of  motors, 


438  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

propellers,  rudders  and  all  accessories.  It  does 
not  seem  possible  for  them  to  go  much  further  in 
this  direction. 

Moreover,  when  they  build  the  largest  and 
heaviest  aeroplanes,  able  to  carry  the  largest 
motors,  they  find  these  the  most  difficult  and 
dangerous  to  handle.  In  fact,  the  tendency  now 
is  toward  smaller  rather  than  larger  apparatus, 
easier  and  safer  to  manage,  capable  of  higher 
speeds.  In  other  words,  aerial  trick  bicycle  rid- 
ing— and  a  most  beautiful  and  admirable  game 
of  skill  and  courage  it  is — demands  small,  handy 
machines. 

Thus  the  tendency  of  practice  is  away  from 
and  not  toward  the  larger  apparatus  with  greater 
carrying  capacity  in  power,  fuel,  passengers, 
cargo,  and  ability  to  cover  longer  distances, 
which  must  come  if  the  art  is  to  have  true  prog- 
ress. How  can  this  be  done  with  one  dimension 
lacking — when  enlargement  of  length  and 
breadth  alone  results  in  loss  of  net  carrying 
power  instead  of  gain? 

The  great  problem  is  to  evolve  a  mechanical 
flight  machine  that  can  take  on  this  missing  di- 
mension and  thus  acquire  the  true  character  of 
development.  Can  this  be  done?  There  is  rea- 
son to  hope;  the  last  word  has  not  yet  been 
spoken.  There  is  hope  for  the  evolution  of  a 
new  type,  a  new  principle  that  will  revolutionize 


THE  FUTURE  OF  FLIGHT      439 

the  art  and  give  to  the  world  a  really  great  and 
serviceable  ship  of  the  air. 

Now  human  flight  is  much  like  the  flight  of 
birds — beautiful,  graceful,  fascinating  as  a 
spectacle,  but  on  a  relatively  insignificant  scale. 
Even  if  they  were  trained  to  do  so,  birds  could 
perform  no  useful  work.  They  have  the  power 
to  carry  only  themselves,  a  worm  or  two,  a  bit  of 
prey,  a  fragment  of  material  for  their  nest-build- 
ing. That  is  all  the  bird  needs  for  himself.  It 
serves  his  purpose.  But  this  is  not  the  sort  of 
flight  which  serves  or  satisfies  man.  He  must 
be  able  to  fly,  not  only  with  the  confidence,  preci- 
sion and  safety  of  the  bird,  but  he  must  have  the 
power  to  carry  cargo,  passengers,  mails,  goods. 

At  the  same  time,  it  is  obvious  the  aeroplane 
of  to-day,  like  the  present  motor-balloon,  may 
be  used  in  certain  favorable  circumstances  for 
limited  commercial  work  or  social  convenience. 
In  France  an  aeroplane  has  been  driven  360 
miles  in  a  single  flight  in  eight  hours.  One  was 
driven  167  miles  without  stopping,  carrying  one 
passenger.  It  is  probable  that  with  perfection 
of  the  existing  types  even  these  fine  records  may 
be  excelled.  And  such  performances  unmis- 
takably indicate  use  of  the  mechanical  bird  for 
carrying  light  mails  and  messages  between  points 
where  better  and  more  certain  and  cheaper  means 
of  communication  are  not  available:  For  ex- 


440  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

ample,  between  mountain  towns,  or  from  islands 
to  mainland,  or  over  rugged  country  where  the 
building  of  railways  is  too  difficult  or  costly.  In 
new  countries,  or  along  the  frontiers  of  civiliza- 
tion, aeroplanes  may  perform  valuable  service. 

Despite  their  limitations,  both  the  motor-bal- 
loon and  the  artificial  flight  apparatus,  as  we 
now  know  them,  seem  to  have  a  certain  field  of 
usefulness  in  the  service  of  society  in  a  limited 
way.  And  of  the  two,  it  is  probable  the  me- 
chanical bird  will  be  more  generally  employed. 
It  is  cheaply  built  and  operated.  It  is  in  small 
units.  No  expensive  plant  or  gas  apparatus  or 
shelter  house  is  needed  for  it.  And  when  the 
new  type  of  machine  comes — as  we  feel  sure  it 
will  come — with  greatly  enlarged  power  and  ca- 
pacity, wider  radius  of  action,  and  probably  with 
greater  safety  and  certainty  of  operation,  its 
commercial  and  social  uses  will  rapidly  broaden. 

Once  in  flight,  aeroplane  efficiency  increases 
with  speed.  The  machine  of  the  future  will 
probably  develop  speeds  above  100  miles  per 
hour;  and  crossing  the  ocean  from  New  York 
to  London  in  a  little  more  than  24  hours  is  a 
dream  which  may  easily  come  true  during  the 
next  generation. 

Both  types  of  aerial  craft — lighter  and  heavier 
than  air — are  already  available  for  the  purposes 
of  scientific  warfare. 


CHAPTER  LVII 

AERIAL    NAVIGATION    IN    TIME    OF   WAR 

We  have  fully  and  frankly  pointed  out  the 
difficulties  which  stand  in  the  way  of  the  com- 
mercial utilization  of  aerial  navigation — diffi- 
culties which  are  not  insuperable  and  which  may 
yet  be  removed.  The  chief  difficulty  is  largely 
one  of  the  hazard  inevitably  involved  in  the  navi- 
gation of  such  craft — hazards  which  capital  will 
be  slow  to  incur.  But  no  such  obstacle  stands 
in  the  way  of  the  utilization  of  aerial  navigation 
for  the  purposes  of  war.  Commerce  may  or  may 
not  be  able  to  afford  the  risk;  war  certainly  can 
afford  it.  For  war  is  of  its  very  essence  hazard 
— hazard  to  life,  to  property.  There  are  no 
risks,  either  of  life  or  property,  involved  in  aerial 
navigation  which  are  beyond  the  normal  scope  of 
war  operations.  In  fact,  when  submitted  to 
close  analysis,  we  shall  find  they  are  far  below  the 
normal.  The  only  question  remaining  to  be  an- 
swered, therefore,  is  as  to  the  usefulness  of  aerial 
craft  in  the  practice  of  the  military  art. 

As  these  pages  go  to  press  I  am  submitting  to 

441 


442  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

the  Congress  of  the  United  States  a  proposal 
that  our  government  take  an  advanced  step  to- 
ward utilization  of  aerial  navigation  in  time  of 
war.  It  would  not  be  proper  for  me  to  state 
here  all  that  I  am  suggesting  to  the  government. 
There  are  certain  details  which  for  the  present 
at  least  must  be  withheld.  In  case  the  govern- 
ment should  adopt  my  suggestions,  there  are 
plans  and  ideas  which  it  would  not  be  wise  or 
patriotic  to  make  public  at  this  juncture. 

It  is  proper  for  me  to  add  that  the  proposal 
which  I  am  submitting  to  the  government  in- 
volves no  business  contract  or  profits  of  any  sort 
for  myself.  If  out  of  my  experience,  somewhat 
extensive,  in  designing,  building,  assembling  and 
navigating  large  motor-balloons,  and  in  studying 
the  art  of  aerial  navigation  as  a  whole,  there  has 
come  anything  which  is  of  value  to  the  country, 
the  country  is  welcome  to  it  without  price. 

The  plan  which  I  submit  to  the  government 
at  Washington  is  bold  and  far  reaching.  If  it 
is  based  upon  sound  and  rational  theory,  as  I 
believe  it  is,  and  it  is  adopted  and  put  into  force, 
I  believe  it  will  to  a  considerable  extent  revolu- 
tionize important  branches  of  the  art  of  war.  I 
further  believe  it  will  introduce  an  epoch  in  mili- 
tary operations,  and  ultimately  contribute  materi- 
ally, by  making  war  far  more  scientific  and  more 
destructive,  to  the  great  movement  which  is  now 


AIRCRAFT  IN  WAR  443 

so  strong  among  all  the  advanced  peoples  to- 
ward the  era  of  universal  peace. 

Ten  years  ago  my  late  friend  and  sponsor  be- 
fore the  French  Academy  of  Sciences,  Prof.  Jans- 
sen,  director  of  the  Astrophysical  Observatory  at 
Meudon,  said  to  the  International  Aeronautic 
Congress  at  Paris,  of  which  he  was  president: 

"It  was  Themistocles  who  declared  that  'he 
who  shall  make  himself  master  of  the  sea  is 
destined  to  become  master  of  the  land.'  Now 
if  the  ocean  has  given  this  power  to  the  nation 
which  was  wise  enough  to  seize  it,  how  much 
greater  will  be  the  coming  mistress  of  the  air? 
While  the  sea  separates  and  renders  passage  of 
even  a  narrow  channel  difficult  in  the  face  of 
a  hostile  force,  the  air  unites  all  nations  and  of- 
fers a  route  from  any  point  on  the  earth's  sur- 
face to  any  other,  which  can  be  traversed  with 
impunity,  no  matter  how  vigilant  the  patrol. 
Political  or  natural  frontiers  will  no  longer  form 
barriers  between  states  when  aerial  fleets  can  sail 
over  them." 

The  suggestion  which  I  offer  the  United  States 
government  does  not  comprise  plans  for  operating 
aerial  fleets  over  land,  though  that  phase  of 
aerial  warfare  will  come  for  the  nations  which 
have  need  of  it.  The  United  States  has  no  such 
need.  For  geographical  and  political  reasons 
we  are  virtually  an  isolated  power.  Our  policy 


444  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

is  one  of  peace.  We  are  not  likely  to  cross  the 
seas  to  attack  an  enemy.  The  only  thing  we  have 
to  fear  is  that  some  enemy  may  cross  one  or  other 
of  the  oceans  which  lie  beyond  our  borders  and 
attack  us.  Hence  coast  defense  is  peculiarly  im- 
portant to  the  people  of  the  United  States,  and 
is  to-day  the  only  feature  of  our  military  estab- 
lishment which  gives  any  serious  concern  to  the 
authorities  and  the  strategists. 

What  I  propose  is  that  the  United  States  shall 
take  up  the  art  of  aerial  navigation  and  make 
serious  effort  to  utilize  it  for  the  national  defense 
by  creating  a  comprehensive  and  well-supported 
Aerial  Military  Establishment,  and  proceed  to 
the  construction  of  air  fighting  and  scouting  ships 
and  machines. 

The  plan  comprises: 

First — Creation  of  an  Aerial  Coast  Defense 
Fleet  composed  of  both  motor-balloons  and 
mechanical  flight  apparatus,  a  fleet  of  such  craft 
to  be  stationed  along  both  the  Atlantic  and  Pa- 
cific seaboards. 

Second — The  creation  of  a  fleet  of  aerial  scout- 
ing ships  which  may  revolutionize  the  art  of  se- 
curing naval  and  military  information  in  time  of 
war. 

Third — The  creation  of  a  fleet  of  aerial  battle- 
ships and  battleship  destroyers,  composed  pri- 
marily of  motor-balloons  but  with  many  aero- 


AIRCRAFT  IN  WAR  445 

planes  fitted  to  the  combination  and  to  serve 
as  advanced  scouts  and  aerial  torpedoes — a  fleet 
designed  and  prepared  to  take  the  offensive,  to 
meet  an  approaching  enemy  and  destroy  or  dam- 
age him. 

Fourth — This  aerial  fleet  to  constitute  the  first 
or  outer  line  of  national  defense,  leaving  our  navy 
in  all  its  branches — battleships,  cruisers,  destroy- 
ers— to  constitute  the  second  line,  and  the  distinc- 
tive coast  defense  vessels  and  the  coast  mines  and 
land  fortifications  the  third  and  fourth  lines. 

It  is  my  belief  I  shall  be  able  to  show  that  this 
first  or  aerial  line  of  defense  will  be  worth  far 
more  than  its  cost  in  scouting  alone;  far  more 
than  its  cost  as  a  means  of  striking  the  first  blow 
alone;  far  more  than  its  cost  in  its  moral  effect 
upon  an  enemy  alone ;  and  in  all  its  fields  of  use- 
fulness worth  a  hundred  times  its  cost,  becauso 
at  a  relatively  small  outlay  for  construction  and 
maintenance  it  will  double  the  effectiveness  of 
our  naval  and  coast  defense  system. 

In  time  of  war,  when  a  great  nation,  its  cities 
and  commerce,  are  liable  to  be  struck  by  the  ap- 
proaching fleet  of  a  powerful  enemy,  the  value 
of  early  and  accurate  information  as  to  the 
enemy's  movements  is  incalculable.  Early  and 
trustworthy  information  gives  the  home  govern- 
ment opportunity  to  mobilize  its  naval  and  mili- 
tary forces,  perhaps  to  change  the  whole  plan  of 


446  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

campaign  previously  determined  upon,  to  strike 
when  and  where  least  expected.  As  many  bat- 
tles are  won  by  information  as  by  valor. 

We  propose  that  each  American  seaboard  shall 
be  patroled  by  fleets  of  fast  air  scouts,  able  to 
cruise  from  a  thousand  to  fifteen  hundred  miles 
from  our  shores,  pick  up  the  enemy  and  report 
him  by  wireless  telegraphy.  These  motor-bal- 
loon cruisers  would  possess  the  invaluable  ability 
to  sight  the  enemy  without  the  enemy  knowing 
he  was  discovered;  and  within  a  few  minutes  the 
home  authorities  would  be  fully  advised  of  the 
foe's  force,  dispositions,  course,  and  apparent 
destination. 

Observers  upon  the  decks  of  a  scouting  air- 
ship have  enormous  advantage  over  those  con- 
fined to  altitudes  but  little  above  the  sea  level. 
At  the  heights  to  which  an  airship  may  rise  her 
officers  have  a  sweep  of  the  seas  for  many  miles 
and  may  observe  without  being  observed,  as  their 
ship  forms  but  a  tiny  speck  in  the  skies. 

In  case  of  coming  into  close  contact  with  an 
enemy  the  scout-ships  might  be  able  to  inflict  as 
much  damage  as  they  received.  But  in  general 
they  would  seek  safety  in  their  altitude,  above 
the  reach  of  guns,  and  in  their  high  speed,  which 
would  enable  them  to  run  away  from  the  fastest 
torpedo  boat  or  destroyer  on  the  seas.  If  in  the 
accidents  of  war  and  weather  a  ship  were  lost 


AIRCRAFT  IN  WAR  447 

now  and  then,  the  loss  would  be  a  trifling  one 
compared  with  the  service  which  it  might  be  able 
to  render.  Such  a  ship  would  represent  a  first 
cost  of  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars,  and 
her  maintenance  would  be  a  bagatelle.  The  value 
of  a  few  aeroplanes  is  relatively  nothing  at  all. 
Even  if  ships  were  lost,  their  crews  would  have 
excellent  chances  of  escape  by  means  of  their 
lifeboats. 

For  the  second  line  of  defense,  the  fleet  of 
aerial  battleships  and  battleship  destroyers,  I 
propose  larger  air-craft,  with  a  total  lifting  force 
of  sixty  to  seventy  tons,  able  to  carry  large  stores 
of  fuel  and  with  a  cruising  radius  great  enough 
to  enable  them  to  cross  the  Atlantic,  equipped 
with  powerful  wireless,  carrying  explosives  and 
means  of  using  them  against  the  enemy  which 
cannot  be  here  disclosed. 

In  case  of  war  it  must  be  expected  that  now 
and  then  an  aerial  battleship  will  be  lost  or 
wrecked,  destroyed  by  the  enemy  in  battle  or 
drifted  away  in  storms.  But  these  craft  cost  only 
a  half  million  dollars  each.  They  are  manned  by 
twenty  or  twenty-five  men  all  told.  And  they 
are  attacking  and  perhaps  destroying  dread- 
noughts which  cost  ten  millions  and  whose  crews 
number  eight  hundred  or  a  thousand  souls. 

If  ten  air  battleships  should  be  lost  in  destroy- 
ing one  of  the  enemy's  dreadnoughts  the  ad- 


448  THE  AERIAL  AGE 

vantage  would  be  all  on  our  side.  The  enemy  has 
lost  one  of  the  big  units  of  his  attacking  column. 
His  plans  are  disarranged.  If  he  still  holds  to 
his  purpose  and  engages  our  own  fleets  in  battle, 
he  is  that  much  weaker,  that  much  less  likely  to 
inflict  damage  upon  us  and  win  the  day.  The 
loss  of  the  airships  has  not  in  the  least  affected 
our  own  second  or  naval  line  of  defense;  and  it 
may  well  happen  that  the  dreadnought  put  out 
of  commission  by  our  first  or  aerial  line  saves  the 
second  line  from  the  destruction  of  one  or  more 
of  its  own  costly  units. 

It  is  my  belief  that  I  know  how  to  build  and 
equip  an  aerial  battleship  which  shall  have  at 
least  an  equal  chance  in  deadly  combat  with  a 
ten  million  dollar  monster  of  steel  down  in  the 
seas  below.  And  if  this  is  an  assumption  well 
based,  the  disparity  in  cost  of  fighting  machines 
is  twenty  to  one,  and  the  disproportion  between 
the  numbers  of  crews  placed  in  jeopardy  is  even 
greater. 


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